


All I Want

by beeyouteaful



Series: All I Want/All I Need [1]
Category: British Actor RPF, Jaguar "British Villains" Commercial
Genre: Angst, Espionage, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Jaguar!Tom - Freeform, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-14
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-05-06 18:12:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 44,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5426804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beeyouteaful/pseuds/beeyouteaful
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I fell for him out of necessity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

I gripped the warm handle of my gun, effectively turning my knuckles white. The deep wound on my thigh no longer stung, though the sticky blood was dripping down my leg and drying to my stockings. If I was going to get out of here alive, I needed to act fast and get out of the building before I bled out and left myself to be found in a dark corner somewhere, swimming in a puddle of crimson.

My breathing was shallow and fast. I didn't know when the next one would show his face. I watched the reflection of the office in the window for a sign of anyone. Luckily, most of the lights were out, so anyone else who looked in the reflection wouldn't see me crouched against the dark desk. I silently thanked myself for wearing all black.

Several pairs of boots thumped across the office floor. My breath hitched. I clutched my gun close to me as I awaited their passing. I had a direct line of sight of the main walkway in the center of all the cubicles.

“Find her!” I heard him bark, several feet back. If he wasn't so adamant about capturing and killing me, maybe he would have sounded sexy. Hell, who was I kidding? He was definitely sexy. Nevermind that he was a psychopath. _Not a psychopath_ , I remembered him saying. _Just a businessman doing business_.

“We’ve searched every—” _Bang!_ I withheld a gasp. _He shot him_.

“No more excuses! And I want her alive. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” the same voice from before answered shakily. I would have sighed in relief—if that was even what I felt at the moment—but I couldn't give away my position. Not until I safely delivered the information on the flash drive to one of my co-operatives in the parking garage.

I watched the snow fall peacefully outside the large window as the footsteps retreated from the office. This would be a Christmas Eve that I would never forget—if I lived long enough to see another one. I made to stand but froze when I heard him speak again.

“Come out, come out, my little dove.” I didn't realize that I had stopped breathing. I needed to get out of here, fast. “You were wrapped up so prettily at the party… I just want my present.” I scrambled to my feet and swiftly crept along the back wall of cubicles, keeping my gun poised to fire. Thankfully, I had removed my heels long ago, so my feet were virtually silent. “I'm going to be honest with you, my darling…” I shivered. “I’ve said that line on every other floor of this building in hopes that you'd be on it. I hope I am not wrong this time.” I could hear the wolfish smirk in his voice.

It sounded too inviting for a criminal. Well, okay, I was a criminal too, but at least I had good intentions. His voice was too soft for a… villain. That was a more fitting word. But damn if he wasn't enticing. Our games of cat and mouse strengthened my admiration for the man. His criminal ability was unlike any other, and his devilish flirting was, too, unmatched. But no matter what I felt for him, I couldn't botch this job. I couldn't fail. My boss would not be happy, and it wouldn't end well for me.

I could picture her face, clear as day, looking down at me with disgust. She knew of my feelings for him—not just the lust, but those of protection and praise: the longing for something sweeter and kinder. She knew he could give me those things, but she threatened that he would only use those to hurt me, and I believed her. I could _not_ fail. Even if I made it out of the building alive, without the information, she would know it was because of my heart, and I would be dead at her feet before I had the chance to defend myself.

His voice shook me from my thoughts.

“Make my wish come true, darling.” I hurried along, constantly checking the windows for his tall figure in the reflection. “All I want…” he sang softly. He sounded too close. I froze and waited to hear him speak again to make sure he was moving away from my location. “For Christmas…” I shifted on my feet and gasped when the cool, sharpness of a thumb tack pierced my skin. I tried to hold in my pain, and quickly removed it. _So much for stealth_.

A leather-gloved hand clamped around my mouth, and I flailed and writhed, trying to turn around and fight back, but his grip was too tight.

“…Is you,” he hummed close to my ear. I tried to angle my arm back to shoot him and get him to let go, but he caught my wrist and twisted, sending a shot up into the ceiling. “Drop it, darling.”

I cried out against his hand and involuntarily dropped my gun behind me. He kicked it away and slammed my back against the frosted window, the warm leather glove pressing against my chest. His chuckle vibrated from deep in his throat, almost like a growl.

“You are the sweetest gift I could have asked for,” he purred, trailing the barrel of his gun down my jaw. My chest heaved with the breaths of electric air that I inhaled through my nose. “I'm glad I was able to get you alone. Having the rest of my associates here would be oh-so-embarrassing.”

“Why?” I breathed, cursing myself for getting aroused by him.

“Because it would be awkward when I kiss you.”

“Wh—” He cut me off with a hard kiss to my chapped lips. My knees buckled, and he pushed against me harder to keep me upright. His mouth tasted of cinnamon and whisky; it was intoxicating. He bit down hard on my lower lip, and I winced as I tasted the blood. He licked the spot to soothe it.

“I have wanted you for so long. You are my only worthy opponent. And now I have you right where I want you.”

I couldn't help myself. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him harder. I had only ever dreamt of the day when Tom Hiddleston would finally capture me; he would restrain me and then kiss me—not too soft, but just hard enough—effectively turning me over to his side. I would be his partner, and he would treat me right, unlike the woman I worked for now.

I had heard great things about him over the years. He was the only man in the world who was an even match for me. Not to mention, he was the devil in a sharp suit with a wicked, white grin. He could have any woman he wanted, but I had always hoped he would have me.

He kept a tight grip on his gun but used his free hand to guide my leg up to hook around his waist. His fingers ghosted across the spot where his bullet had grazed me earlier. I pulled back and whimpered at the stinging pain.

“Did I do that?” he asked, surprised. He looked down at the wound intently and gently traced his leather-clad fingers around it. I made an affirmative noise in the back of my throat as my head hit the glass behind me, and I hissed when he pushed on the tender flesh. “Not to my best girl…” He sounded disappointed in himself. I lowered my leg so I could stand without shaking from the adrenaline.

Tom tucked his gun into the back of his pants and pulled off his gloves with his teeth. He loosened his tie with deft fingers before removing it completely. I watched with a child-like wonder as he knelt before me and tied the silk around my thigh.

“That should ebb the flow.” He trailed his index finger across the tie. “Forgive me, darling. It was for the job.”

“So, you aren't going to kill me.” It was more of an observation than a question, and he knew it. If he made the effort to stop my blood flow, surely he wouldn't waste a good tie and kill me anyway. He stood to his full height again and caressed my cheek. His skin on mine sent electric shocks down to my stomach. “My employer will,” I said, staring off into space behind Tom’s head. I couldn't help but tear up at the thought of going back to her. She would certainly kill me. I could almost hear her say, _work over heart, (y/l/n). Not the other way around_ , followed by the click of a gun hammer and then nothing.

“No. She won't.” I looked back at him. His eyes were… sad, but full of reignited purpose. I looked down at my cleavage and reached a hand inside my bra. He watched carefully as I pulled out the flash drive.

“Please help me,” I whimpered like a child, offering it back to him. It was then I really saw the human in him. After he took the information from my fingers—with more delicacy than someone repositioning a glass figurine—and slipped it into his suit pocket, I wrapped my arms around his chest, burying my face into his shoulder. He rubbed his hand across my back.

I could have done it—I could have completed my mission and returned to my employer—but something stopped me from reaching for his gun. I thought about his tie wrapped around my thigh. He was gentle with me after I let down my guard. He trusted me not to fight back, and so he showed me his true self; I had not expected this villainous mastermind to have a soft heart. I fell for him out of necessity. He offered a sense of security that I wouldn’t have with my employer. I knew that this was why I didn't reach for his gun; I wanted him. I needed him. And he could provide me with the things I wished for. She had been wrong. _Heart over work_.

“Please, Thomas,” I sobbed. “Take me away from her. Help me escape. Please.” He pulled away with his hands on my shoulders, searching my watery eyes for any signs of deception. I looked away from his intense gaze. I saw one of his associates point a gun toward us precautiously, and I swallowed hard. Tom turned and followed my line of sight.

“Stand down,” he ordered. The man did as he was told. “I will see to it that she has no way of hurting you, little dove.” I sobbed with relief. “Let me take care of you.” I nodded.

“There are more of me,” I told him. “They're surrounding the building. We will never leave without being detected.”

“There is only one of you, (y/n). And I think you forget, darling,” he began with a light smirk, “with whom you are speaking.”


	2. Chapter 2

I awoke the next morning in a king-sized bed, bundled up in a plush, white duvet. Sunlight poured in through the giant windows that reached from wall-to-wall, floor-to-ceiling. I rolled over and saw a soft blanket of snow covering the ground outside, making it look like the earth had a duvet like mine. I inhaled deeply and smelled Tom’s scent on the pillow next to mine.

The night prior was hazy. Everything up until we escaped the building was clear in my mind. I didn't really know what happened afterward. I sort of remembered crying and being put into different clothes before I passed out in this bed, but that was it. I cringed at the thought of Tom seeing me naked.

I stretched my arms above my head and let a quiet groan escape from my lips as my elbows popped like they always did after a good night’s sleep. I looked down at the sweatshirt I was in and noticed it was for Syracuse University. I didn't know why Tom had it, since it was an American school, but it was comfortable, and I was thankful.

I threw off the duvet and swung my feet over the side of the bed. I noticed that the tie had been removed and replaced with gauze and bandages on my clean, bare leg. I smoothed my hand over the rough material as some of my memories flooded back.

_Tom peeled off my blood-matted stockings. Flakes of crimson floated to the black, marble floor like snow. He sat me on the edge of the matching tub, in nothing but my bra and underwear, and gently extended my leg. I moaned in pain as the warm, soapy water burned my injury._

_“I know it stings, little dove, but your wound will get infected if it isn't cleaned up.” I watched sleepily as Tom dabbed my skin with a cloth. His thin fingers soothed the inflamed skin around the gash._

 

“You're awake,” I heard him say from the doorway. He leaned against the frame nonchalantly with a glass of water. I stood, trying to ignore the pain in my leg. “Oh, no, no. Back down on the bed.” I did as he told me.

“Thank you for not killing me.” I clutched at the white sheets.

“I should say the same to you,” he replied, pushing off the door frame and sauntering across the room. “Your gun skills are lacking though. You almost took out a perfectly good ceiling light.”

“I never thought you'd be one for mercy. Let alone having a soft, compassionate side.”

“Again, I could say the same about you.” He eased down onto the mattress and handed me the glass and a white pill. I eyed it incredulously. “It’s only Vicodin.”

“It just seems out of character. You're so elegant and threatening on the job.”

“Exactly. It's because I'm _on the job_. It’s all a façade,” he explained as I popped the pill in my mouth and washed it down. “I wouldn't expect you to be so fragile and vulnerable. You are indeed a worthy adversary.” I smiled, despite the terrible taste that the pain meds left in my mouth.

“Surely the elegance isn’t a _façade_ ,” I joked. Tom chuckled at me and ran a hand through his hair. “Still, thank you for not sending me to my execution.” His spiced-wood aftershave invaded my senses and worked to relax me further. He looked much less intimidating out of his suit; the soft tee and flannel pajama bottoms really took away from his villainous demeanor.

“Why did you give in to me?” he asked.

“I didn't. I changed my mind.”

“About what?”

“About you.”

“Please explain.”

“After two or three of our encounters, I started to develop…” I sighed. “This is too childish.”

“Continue. I want to know.”

“I developed… _feelings_. For _you_.” There was a long pause between us.

“Oh?”

“Every time we met after the first, each time we spoke at a dinner or a gala, I wanted to be closer to you. It started out as something solely sexual, but it evolved into a longing for safety and security from her. And she knew it, my boss. She could tell when I started getting sloppy that I wanted you to help me escape from her.” I leaned forward to rest my elbows on my knees and held my head in my hands. “She used my fantasies of you against me to get me back on track and keep me on her side. She said you were making me feel this way to hurt me. And I believed her.” I felt his hand squeeze my good thigh reassuringly. I looked back up at him. “I didn't want to, but she was so convincing. She knew my Achilles heel and took advantage of it.”

“What is it?”

“I'm a hopeless romantic. But I'm also a realist.” I snickered in disbelief at how dumb I sounded. “Her plan backfired, though. The more you and I interacted, the more I knew I was right. That you—”

“That I could give you all the things you wished for,” he gathered. I looked at him and saw the same sadness in his eyes as last night. It almost looked like pity, or even empathy.

“I fell for you out of necessity.” It felt strange admitting it out loud.

“Necessity?”

“For my survival. You're the only person who really knew my lifestyle and how to get me out. But as I dug myself deeper into these fantasies of getting away from her, I realized it wasn’t just necessity. It was desire.”

“Desire for…”

“For you. I wanted you. It wasn’t only for my survival anymore. I wanted to be yours. You always treated me like your equal when I was undercover. The way you always spoke to me like I was a real person… Even the way you danced with me, laughed at my jokes, teased me… And the way you called me—still call me—your ‘little dove…’ It just made me feel like more of a damsel in distress waiting for my prince to save me.” I pulled at the hem of my sweatshirt. “But anyway… That’s why I ‘gave in.’” I looked up just in time to see him lean in to kiss me. I squealed at the suddenness of it but melted into him. He cupped my cheek in his hand and used his thumb to stroke the skin there. I parted my lips and let his tongue invade my mouth. This was nothing like the kiss we shared last night.

“I’m sure you could have saved yourself,” he said once we parted. I blushed and looked away. “I’m glad you changed your mind. And I meant what I said last night; I have wanted you for so long. Not just to defeat your boss—because I had no idea you were a spy until last night—but because I also developed feelings for you. It was before I knew who you really were. But I still feel the same knowing who you are now.” He took my hand in his. “It’s impractical in our line of work, but it damn well happens.”

“I can’t help but think that all of this is you trying to deceive me—that she was right all along—but I really, _really_ hope it isn’t.”

“Like I said: I didn't even know you were a spy until last night. I will try to make you believe me. It’ll be the hardest job yet,” he said, still cupping my cheek.

 

_Tom handed me my gun and caressed my cheek._

_“If you see anyone you used to work with, shoot them.” I nodded and followed him out of the office floor. All of his associates went ahead of us to take out any loose ends. I kept close to him, making sure no one from my team followed us. I heard loud static in my ear, and it was then that I realized I still had an earpiece in._

“(Y/l/n) has been compromised.”

_I gasped and ripped it out of my ear._

_“What is it?” Tom asked, turning to face me. I pointed in horror at the device on the ground._

_“They know!” I whisper-screamed. He looked back at me and immediately crushed it under his shoe. “Fuck me.” I rubbed my temples._

_“Darling, we don’t have time for this.” He grasped my hand in his. “I’ll keep you safe.” I eyed him warily. “Trust me.”_

“Trust me.”

“What?”

“I said ‘I will protect you. Trust me.’”

“Oh.”

“You seemed far away just then.”

“Yeah. I just don’t really remember what happened after we left the office last night. Some things keep coming back to me, but it’s still pretty hazy.”

“Ah, yes. That’s because you were crying that your leg hurt, so I gave you some painkillers in the car. You had already lost a lot of blood, too, so you were flying _pretty_ high.” He stood and offered me his hand. “We should get you some breakfast.”

“What happened after you smashed the earpiece?” I asked as he hoisted me up.

“We ran down the stairwell and into the basement. I got the all clear from my men that there were none of your coworkers left. When we made it to the parking garage, there was actually one more waiting, but you took him out swiftly. It was quite impressive.”

“Thanks.”

“Then, I sat you in the passenger seat of my Jag, and I drove us to my safehouse.”

“Is that where we are now?”

“Precisely.” He led me to an island counter, and I climbed into one of the seats. “Then, I got you to strip off your soiled clothes and let me clean you up. It was actually harder than you would think. You're feisty when you're on a medicinal high.” I laughed at that comment. “I suspect you actually do like French toast?” He casually switched the subject. “That wasn’t a lie, was it?”

“No, it wasn’t.” I grinned at the memory of our second meeting.

 

_My dress rode up my legs every time I sat down._ This job better be quick so I can go home and change _, I thought to myself. I watched as he walked in, all dressed up in his tailored-to-fit Armani suit. He scanned the room, and once his eyes found me, he flashed a handsome grin. I cautiously smiled back, playing my part of the shy, lonely girl at the party—which wasn’t exactly a stretch from my day-to-day demeanor._

_“Hello again, little dove,” he greeted once he made his way to me._

_“Hello again, indeed, Thomas.” He offered me his hand, and I took it, standing to greet him properly. He brought my knuckles to his lips and kissed them sweetly._

_“I never would have expected to see you at one of these events,” he said. I pulled the hem of my dress down again awkwardly as he watched me._

_“Yeah, well, I’d rather be at home, if we’re being honest.”_

_“You do look a tad uncomfortable in that short dress, darling.”_

_“Trust me, if I could trade this stupid get up and my wine for some pajamas and French toast, I would in a heartbeat.”_

_“Oh, that sounds like heaven right now. You look divine, though, if I may say so.”_

_“That’s_ one _good thing to come out of wearing this.”_

 

Soon after I snapped out of my daydream, Tom finished making the French toast and slid a plate in front of me.

“It smells wonderful, Thomas.”

“Thank you, little dove,” he replied, seating himself next to me.

“Do you cook a lot?” I asked after swallowing a syrupy bite. He wiped a drop of the sticky mess from my chin with his thumb and licked his finger clean.

“Yes. I have to, or else I'll starve. No one else lives with me.”

“You don't hire a chef?” He shook his head.

“Can't be trusted. I'll admit, I am a little paranoid about things.”

“It makes sense. I would be, too.”

“Did _you_ have a personal chef?”

“Only because she wanted me to. She didn't think I could cook for myself without burning down the apartment she paid for.”

“Your employer?”

“Yes. She didn't have much faith in me to keep myself alive outside of work.”

“I'll bet she's wrong.”

“I would put money on it that she’s right,” I joked.

“Does _she_ have a name?”

“I only know her as Ms. C. She never told anyone her full name for safety reasons.”

“Well, that certainly doesn't help us.”

“Help us what?”

“Bring her down,” he stated matter-of-factly. “She'll try to come after you. I'd rather she not be successful, so we need to take her down first before she can.” My heart swelled at his proclamation.

“How will you find her?”

“Hopefully, you can give me enough information to start searching.”

“I don't know much.”

“Surely there must be some things you know about her.”

“I mean, I guess so. I just think you'll be disappointed.”

“Any information is helpful, darling. And if it leads nowhere, that isn't your fault.”

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“Positive.” He smiled softly at me and squeezed my thigh again.


	3. Chapter 3

“So what _can_ you make?” he asked, leaning back on the counter, showing off his lean, uncovered chest. He ended up getting syrup on his shirt earlier, so he took it off and never replaced it, much to my enjoyment.

“Um… Cereal?” He laughed. I sat opposite him on the island countertop.

“You know what I meant.”

“The only thing I can really do is boil pasta and heat up canned sauce.” Tom grimaced. “What, you don't like processed tomato paste?” I asked, poking fun at his sophisticated palate.

“I'm going to teach you how to make a real pasta dish.”

“You sound so snobby right now.”

“Once you go snob, you never go back.”

“I don't think I'm ready for anything other than TV dinners.” He clutched his chest in fake agony.

“Little dove, you're killing me.”

“Then come _on_ , Gordon Ramsay. Teach me something.”

“We’re doing pasta.” I nodded and reached up to grab a pot from the hanging rack above the counter. My sweatshirt lifted up just enough to show some skin, and Tom pounced on me immediately.

“Stop! Stop!” I howled with laughter. “Thomas!” He laughed as he continued to attack me.

“If I had known you were ticklish, our night would have ended much sooner.”

“Tom, please!” I cried out, dropping to the floor to get away from him. My attempt was in vain. He followed me down and kept tickling my sides. “I can't breathe! I'm gonna pee!”

“Alright, alright. I don't want you peeing all over my nice tile.” He helped me up as I tried to catch my breath.

“You really are a villain,” I mused. He just grinned and grabbed a pot effortlessly. “My hero.”

“Well, which is it, darling? Hero or villain?”

“Which one gets me dessert?”

“Depends on what you mean by dessert. Chocolate cake? Cookies? Or maybe another _sinful_ treat…”

“We haven't even started cooking yet, and it's already a million degrees in here,” I laughed nervously, fanning myself with my hand and trying to ignore the heat in my panties. I still wasn't ready to let him see me completely naked. Tom handed me the pot with a smirk plastered on his face.

“Thanks.” I filled it with water and placed it on the glass stovetop to heat up.

“Now for the sauce.” He grabbed another pot and placed it on the stove, but didn't heat it yet. “First, the onions and garlic.” I wrinkled my nose. “What?” he chuckled.

“Onions are gross.”

“You won't even be able to taste them.”

“Then why are they in the recipe?” Tom pulled me closer and kissed my forehead.

“You will be the end of me, my little dove.”

“Only if the onions don't end me first!”

“Just trust me.” I sighed and let him have his way. He sandwiched me between the counter and his body, holding my hand in his and guiding me. “Careful; chopping onions tends to cause people to tear up.”

“I don't need to cut the onion for it to make me cry.” He steadied my hand and pushed the knife down, chopping through to the cutting board with a solid _crack_.

“You are so stubborn.” I could hear the grin in his voice.

“At least I'm letting you teach—ah!” I dropped the knife as soon as it sliced me. Tom immediately took my other hand in his and examined the wound.

“Well, you don't need stitches. Let's get you a plaster.” I sucked on my cut to stop the bleeding. He opened a drawer next to him and pulled out a box of Band-Aids. I watched intently as he pulled my finger from my lips and cleaned the cut with a wet paper towel. He dried it off on his sweatpants and then wrapped the bandage around it.

“Thank you, Thomas.” He kissed my cheek.

“Of course.”

“Maybe you should do the chopping from now on,” I mused, hopping back up onto the counter.

“That's a smart idea. I don't need you getting any more injuries.” He glanced down at my thigh. I tilted his head up to look at me.

“I forgive you for shooting me.”

“ _Grazing_ you,” he corrected jokingly, cutting the rest of the onion.

“To-may-to, to-mah-to,” I jested, holding up one of the plump, round fruits.

After Tom finished the sauce, and the linguine was perfectly boiled—al dente—he plated the meal, and we ate together at the counter. Tom reached for a small remote and suddenly, soft Christmas music played throughout the house.

“Oh my god. I totally forgot.”

“Happy Christmas, little dove.”

“Now you _have_ to give me wine.”

“Nope.”

“Why not?” I whined.

“You're on drugs.” I scoffed at him.

“Lame. Can I at least have a sip of yours?”

“No.”

“Whyyy?”

“You're on drugs,” he repeated, mouth full of pasta.

“Only pain meds!”

“You aren't supposed to mix alcohol and any medicine.” He sipped his wine with a smirk.

“Yeah, but—”

“Ah, ah. No buts. Just _your_ delicious butt in that chair, drinking _not_ -alcohol.”

“You like my butt?” I cocked an eyebrow, trying to flirt my way to the wine.

“I do, but you're still not getting any.” I groaned and rested my head on his shoulder. “But, you know what we can do?” I sat up and looked at him.

“...give me wine?” He laughed and shook his head.

“No. We can make cookies. It is Christmas, after all.”

“I can't cook, Tom.”

“Come on. You can't turn down Christmas cookies,” he almost whined.

“Are there any knives involved?”

“None at all.”

“Alright. Let me finish my pasta first. It's _really_ good.”

“I bet it'd be better with wine,” he teased. I punched his shoulder playfully.


	4. Chapter 4

I awoke in Tom’s bed, alone again, to the sound of running water. I sat up and rubbed the sleep from my eyes.

I slid out of bed and padded down the hall to the bathroom. I opened the door and found Tom filling the tub with water. Candles flickered all around the room. The light scent of lavender engulfed me as I closed the door.

“What's all this?” I asked, picking up the lavender oil bottle and reading the label.

“I've run you a bath. You need some time to recuperate after our encounter the other night. Besides, you can't have alcohol, so this is the next best thing, I think.”

“Tom, this really isn't necessary,” I said as he wrapped his arms around me from behind and kissed my neck.

“Of course it is, little dove.” He turned me around to face him.

“Thank you.”

“I’ll leave you to it while I go prepare something for dinner.” He kissed my forehead and left me alone to relax.

“Wait.” I ran back to the door and called to him. “Dinner? What time is it?”

“Just past five, my darling,” he called back. “Enjoy your bath.”

“Nothing with onions!” His laugh echoed down the hall. I closed the door again and got back to business.

I pulled my shirt over my head and slid off my panties. The warm, lavender-scented water kissed my toes and made the rest of my body tingle as I eased into the marble bath, the tension in my muscles melting away. The water soothed the tender skin around my wound. I leaned back against the rear of the tub and let myself fall into a hypnotic state of bliss. Tom was right; it was the next best thing to wine. I probably would have fallen asleep if not for a loud crashing sound from somewhere in the house.

“Tom?” I called, resting my arms on the edge of the tub. There was no response. _He must not have heard me._ “Thomas…?” I tried once more. Again, there was no reply, but another thump. I began to shake from the sudden rush of adrenaline. The water sloshed as I stood and let droplets roll off my skin and drip into the bath. I called for him again, rushing out of the tub and wrapping a towel around myself. I padded down the hall toward the kitchen, leaving a trail of water behind me. I rounded the corner and found Tom gagged and struggling to fight off an intruder. I froze as I watched the scene from behind the wall. He and I exchanged glances and he pleaded with his eyes for me to run. I clutched the towel to me as I turned to retreat into the bathroom.

My feet were silent on the wood floors as I tiptoed through the house. As soon as I reached for the door knob, a hand wrapped around my mouth. I cried out against it, trying in vain to fight back. Blood pumped through me and pounded in my ears.

“(Y/n)!” I barely heard the thump of a body hitting the floor in the kitchen, let alone Tom yelling to me. I bit the hand over my mouth as hard as I could.

“Thomas!” I screamed, trying to kick my attacker. “Thoma—” The hand clamped over my mouth again. He slammed me into the wall face-first, hitting my bullet wound. I whimpered and bit the hand harder. “Help!”

A shot rang through the house and I stiffened in shock. The intruder fell and took my towel with him. I watched Tom, who was poised to fire at the end of the hall. He relaxed once he realized the man wouldn't move again and looked at me. We both stared at each other.

“Wha—”

“We need to leave,” he said. I stood there, dumbfounded. “ _Now_ , (y/n),” he growled, looking down to my naked form and back up to meet my gaze. I suddenly realized I was completely bare and ducked into the bathroom to grab a robe. _Why didn't I do that in the first place?_

“Well, now I know what it's like to be a real damsel in distress,” I muttered, wrapping myself up and blowing out the candles.

I stepped over the man’s dead body, examining his features. He was one of my own, but not one who was on the mission with me the other night. I hurried back into the bedroom and found Tom packing two bags.

“I'm sorry for snapping at you,” he grumbled, shoving all the clothes he could fit into the small duffels.

“It's fine.” I walked over to the bed and helped him. “He was Ms. C’s. They both were.”

“I heard him hit your leg against the wall.”

“Yeah. It hurts, but I can wait.”

“There's still Vicodin in the car from last night. I think there's another water bottle, too.”

“How did you get away from the other one?”

“Hit his nose with the back of my head.” I glanced up and saw a small patch of blood in his curls. “Don't worry, it's his,” he said, keeping his eyes down and focused on the bags. I shoved my hair brush and phone charger into mine, and wrapped Tom’s glass cologne bottle in a shirt before adding that too. “Darling, just the necessities.”

“I'm not going into hiding with a man who smells like B.O.” He chuckled, although it sounded a bit clipped.

“Put these on.” He threw a tee and some sweatpants at my face. I squealed. “Sorry.” I held the fabric in my hands and hesitated, still embarrassed about Tom seeing me naked minutes ago. “There's not really a need for modesty anymore, is there?” Still, he didn't look up at me, seeming equally as embarrassed. I sighed, shrugging off the robe. Tom noticed the movement out of the corner of his eye, and of course, looked up at my bare body again before realizing and quickly averted his gaze. “You really are a sight, you know.” I slipped the shirt over my head and moved to pull on the sweats before I realized I needed underwear.

“Tom, I need panties.”

“Mmm. No, you don't,” he chuckled, flashing me a saucy look. The speed at which his mood changed could give me whiplash.

“I don't think now is the time to flirt.” He stopped to mull it over.

“Is it not always a good time to flirt?”

“I thought you were in a hurry,” I scoffed, pulling on the pants without underwear, anyway. He laughed and resumed his task. I watched his tall figure maneuver around the bed and pull open the nightstand drawer on his side. He took out two guns and some ammunition. “Whoa, you're definitely packing heat.”

“In more ways than one, little dove.” Both our eyes widened at the innuendo that he obviously didn't mean to let slip out, and mine darted to his pants to check.

“Pull yourself together, Thomas!” I zipped up my bag and threw it over my shoulder.

“Well, I don't have time to take a cold shower or fuck you into my mattress, so we’ll just have to deal with it.” I blushed cherry red at the thought of him ramming into me relentlessly.

“Do you already know where we’re going?” I cleared my throat.

“Yes, my darling.” He zipped his bag shut. “My second safe house.”

“Is it as nice as this one?”

“They're identical. Now come on.” He grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me along, stepping over the body by the bathroom. He dialed a number on his phone. “I need you to go to number one and clean up. Yes. Two. Thank you.”

Once in the car, I found the Vicodin and swallowed it dry. Much to my dismay, there was no water bottle to wash it down with. Thankfully, the car had been stored in the garage over night, so there was no snow to brush off and slow us down. Tom also explained that he had a heated driveway, which was an absolute luxury to me, so he didn't need to hire someone to plow it. I was amazed at how hard he worked to stay off the radar.

Tom maneuvered his Jaguar like a professional—well, I guess he _was_ —and drove us away.

“Won't they know your car if they see it?”

“I change the plates and tags every time I use it.”

“Interesting,” I said, tongue like lead with the taste of the pain meds. “Do you happen to have gum in here? Or maybe mints? This taste is wretched.”

“Should be something in the glove box.” I opened it up and found some Life Savers.

“So your other safe house is exactly like this one?” The road leading to Tom’s home was never ending, so the intruders must have followed us and knew what to look for.

“Yes, almost exactly. The only differences are slight. I'm quite fond of the style.”

“Me too. The modern style fits you well, Thomas. Not too opulent but also never shabby.”

“Never thought as a kid that I'd end up with two identical homes. Especially not ones this nice.”

“I bet kid-you would be jealous. I know I would be.”

“If we—as children—met us now, how do you think we would react to all this?” he asked with a grin, glancing to me before looking back at the road.

“I don't think I'd tell me that I'm a spy. I’d tell her I married a rich man.”

“And by rich man, you mean me?” Tom’s face showed genuine delight at this notion.

“Or a more successful you,” I jabbed.

“Darling, there is absolutely no version of myself who is more successful.”

“Touché.” We sat in silence for a while before I spoke again. “What if someone attacks us on the road?”

“What do you mean?”

“What would happen? How would you react? Would you fight back or keep driving or use me as a human shield or…” Tom's face hardened slightly as I trailed off.

“I told you I would keep you safe. I do not break promises.”


	5. Chapter 5

Today was the first day that I woke up before Tom did. I turned over on my side and examined his peaceful features. His long eyelashes rested above his cheeks. His thin lips curved into a slight pout while one side of his face was smushed softly against the pillow. The arm underneath his body curled into his chest while the other draped over my side. Being this close to him filled me with warmth and a feeling of safety. His light puffs of breath kissed my cheeks. I couldn't help but lean in and peck his lips in silent greeting.

I didn't think I would have fallen asleep on the way here, but the pain meds did their thing, once again, and knocked me out until this morning. I vaguely remember Tom singing softly in the car right before I passed out and had a vivid dream of our first meeting. I replayed it in my head as I lay next to his still-sleeping form.

 

_The museum buzzed with gala attendees. A red carpet greeted me on my way inside, full of reporters snapping photos and shouting at the more recognizable celebrities. I, of course, was not one but had been “invited” to attend so I could scope out a Mr. Thomas Hiddleston, criminal extraordinaire._

_I had heard of him many times from my employer during training. She told me of his many feats in the business world. He was untraceable. She never knew what he would do next, but an informant told her of his attendance at the art museum._

_My boss chose me to apprehend him because she said I was the youngest and most beautiful of all of us, and Mr. Hiddleston had definitely never seen me before. I was to play the role of a shy, young, single heiress who seldom went to events like this unless forced by my father._ Shouldn't be hard, _I thought._ I'm shy, young, single, and seldom at events every other day of the year.

_I wandered aimlessly through the galleries with a flute of champagne. My boss told me that Mr. Hiddleston was known for flirting with women at events, but he never took anyone home. Did he have a girlfriend? A wife? No one knew. I stared at one of the modern art sculptures and sipped my champagne, cringing at the taste. I much preferred red wine._

_“May I join you?” I heard a velvety, British voice ask from behind._

_“Of course.” I sidestepped a bit, my gown flowing easily along with me. The man stepped up next to me and examined the work._

_“How do you feel about modern art?” he asked, turning toward me._

_“I love it. I think it's interesting how the focus of art now is on the process and artist’s emotion rather than the product.”_

_“I couldn't agree more.” He sipped his glass. I finally turned toward him and almost gasped at his appearance. His short curls sat atop his head regally. He had shimmering blue eyes that could captivate even the most stubborn of people. His legs went on for miles, and I realized I had to crane my neck just to look at him this close. His pitch black tuxedo was fitted to him perfectly. He was absolutely more stunning in person. “A beautiful answer from a gorgeous young woman.”_

_We hit it off instantly. Much to my dismay—or perhaps pleasure—he charmed me into forgetting why I had been there. I couldn't stop listening to his beautiful voice talk about anything at all. His lips, as well as his shining sapphire eyes, had me mesmerized. Conversation between us flowed easily, and it was the first time in a long time that I felt like I was really being listened to._

_I noticed a few things while in his company: One—he didn't have a wedding ring, but that still didn't mean he was single. Two—there was no date to be found, so it was more likely that he really was single. Three—his pupils dilated when we made eye contact, which meant he enjoyed my presence_ very much _. And four—I wanted to kiss his lips more than I had ever wanted anything else in my entire life._

_“May I have this dance?” He offered me his hand as he stood before me._

_“Certainly, Thomas,” I accepted and let him lead me to the dance floor._

_“I like your earrings. Beautiful little doves.”_

_“Thank you.” I blushed._

_“Actually, I quite like that. ‘Little dove.’ May I call you that?”_

_“You can call me_ anything _as long as it's in your wonderful accent.” We turned slowly to the soft sounds of the music. Tom hummed along and held me closer to him._

_“I'm very smitten with you, little dove.” I smiled at the sound of his pet name as butterflies fluttered around in my stomach._

_“And I, you, Thomas.”_

_“I bet you say that to all the men,” he joked. A giggle bubbled up inside me._

_“I bet you call all the women you meet cute nicknames.”_

_“Nonsense. Never have I connected with a woman like I have connected with you tonight. You truly are something special, little dove.” He held me close, and we danced the night away. We were even the last couple standing on the dance floor. I heard other women sigh longingly at our closeness, probably wishing they had something as perfect as this._

_“I really hate to cut our meeting short…” I began, genuinely sad that this had to end, but I knew I needed to get back to my place and report on this encounter._

_“Tell me I'll see you again,” he pleaded._

_“I can only hope, Thomas. Like I said before, I'm not one for events like this.”_

_“Tell you what,” he said as he led me to the coat room. “If we meet again, this happens.” He motioned between us. My heart swelled in my chest._

_“And if we don't?” I frowned, realizing what that meant._

_“Then… This turns into a blissful, fairytale memory.” His eyes saddened slightly._

_“But I'll regret everything if I have no way of contacting you again.” To my surprise, I was genuinely upset about this notion, especially since I knew I wouldn't be able to track him down again until we got another tip concerning his whereabouts. Tom’s lips formed a slight pout. I watched him think through this again._

_“I'll give you this, then.” He took his coat from the attendant and handed it to me._

_“Thomas—”_

_“My information is hidden somewhere in there. Put it in your closet. I will be around for the next three weeks at events like this, hoping to see you. After three weeks exactly—no more, and no less—if we haven't met again, and you find where I've hidden it, you find me.”_

_“You're Cinderella-ing me?” I laughed._

_“It seems that way.” He smiled softly and helped me into his coat. “Until we meet again, little dove.” He took my hand in his and kissed my knuckles. “Farewell.”_

 

I reluctantly rolled out of the bed and padded to the bathroom to bathe.

He was right when he said the houses were identical; the only big differences between the two were the bedding, which was a pretty Bordeaux color, and the bathroom. This one had one of those square ceiling showers, so the water rained down from above. My mother always said to date a doctor. _Sorry mom,_ I thought with a grin. _Dating a criminal is where the money really is._

I turned on the shower and waited for the water to heat up before letting my silk robe pool around my feet. I stepped in over the edge and let the water drench me. It was helpful in acting out my fantasies of being the girl left outside in the rain by the guy in those cheesy romance movies, and it was also just really _fucking_ cool.

I soaped up my body, sliding my hands over each of my arms and breasts, imagining it was Tom instead. I moaned and kneaded my stomach and hips, working my way down to my legs. Even though we hadn't done anything sexual over the few months we had known each other, I longed for his soft touch. I bet he could bring me to climax by only using his tongue or fingers, or maybe even his words. I flicked my clit, imagining it was him. I bucked forward and gasped. The water pelted my skin and massaged my shoulders. _I bet sex with Tom in here would be divine_.

I continued washing my body. Avoiding my injury, I rubbed the soap onto my thighs, and caressed my calves, imagining Tom on his knees, kissing up my legs and squeezing the soft flesh. I worked my way down the right leg and then the left, finally reaching my ankle and foot. I froze.

“Motherfucker.” I stood sharply and finished rinsing my body before turning off the water. I dried myself and wrapped a new silk robe around me. I rushed to the bedroom, but didn't find him there. “Tom,” I called, hurrying down the hall to the kitchen. “Thomas.”

“What is it, little dove?” he questioned, a bit on edge at my alertness. I held up a gold chain.

“Melt this down. Get rid of it.”

“What? Why?”

“This was a gift.” Confusion washed over his face. “From my employer. Everyone got one. I got an anklet and the boys got tie pins, each with the same charm.” I could see the gears turn in his head before they clicked into place.

“It’s a GPS,” he gasped, setting his coffee down.

“This is how she found me.” I tossed it on to the countertop, the tiny, diamond eye glinting under the lights. _Clever symbolism_ , I thought.

Tom plucked it from its resting place and examined it carefully.

“The eye is clever,” he mused.

“I just thought the same thing.” He smirked up at me.

“I bet if I can melt the gold on the charm, I could get the tracking chip out and figure out the origin of the sale. Maybe that could get us some leads. I could throw her off our trail too.” Tom focused back on me. “Brilliant work, little dove.”


	6. Chapter 6

_My lungs burned as I ran as fast as I could. Tears seared my eyes._ This can’t be happening. _I was finally building up a good dynamic, and he goes and knocks it all down in 15 minutes._

 _There was no way the driveway was this long on our way in. I clutched the gun in my hand as my feet pounded the pavement._ Thank god he decided to invest in heated asphalt, _I thought, realizing I hadn’t slipped on ice yet. What would happen when I reached the end? I’d probably slide around and lose my footing, and then he’d definitely have me. Or maybe I could cut into the woods. I wouldn’t slip on snow, and I could probably shake him off my trail. But then I’d freeze to death._ Why does every option end in death?

_I heard the purr of his car engine in the distance. My decision was final: run through the woods. He would have to get out and follow me on foot. I made a beeline off the driveway and through the trees. I cursed myself for not grabbing a jacket but realized I wouldn’t have been able to anyway._

_Why did he decide to turn on me now? Was this his plan all along? Make me cozy and sweet and soft before killing me once and for all? I can’t believe I fell for it. I knew I couldn’t trust him._

_As I ran further, the Jaguar oddly seemed to get closer. Could he have followed me in his car? There’s no way he could get through the trees; it wasn’t possible. Maybe I just hadn’t run as far as I thought. It was getting harder to breathe, but I used all of my remaining strength to sprint deeper into the woods._

_In a second, my face met the ground with a painful thud. The snow froze my cheeks. Groaning, I tried to climb to my feet, but the shock was settling in. I barely managed to crawl behind the large trunk of a tree after retrieving my gun._

_“Little dove…” he called._ Fuck. _He sounded far, but he was close enough that I could hear him, and that was_ too _close. “I told you if you didn’t fight back, it would be easier for you!” I clutched the metal handle and tried to steady my breathing. Where could I go? If I stayed put, I’d risk him finding me. If I tried running, he would most definitely catch up with me. There was no way out._

 _I eyed my gun._ I could end it before he can… _Why was I thinking that way?_ What if he doesn’t kill me when he finds me, and I still have a chance? Idiot.

_“(Y/n), if you come out like a good girl, I won’t hurt you.” He was closer now. Was it a bluff? Was he saying that just to find me faster? I wanted to scream in frustration. Fresh tears fell from my eyes, and I slumped against the tree. My limbs were freezing, and the bullet wound on my leg throbbed. I cherished the few moments of quiet. Flurries floated down from the sky. My heartbeat faded to a lull. The woods were almost serene. I was definitely going to die, but at least this would be the last thing I saw._

_My scalp burned as he yanked me up by my hair. I cried out._

_“Poor little dove,” he tisked. “Frozen, broken, and terrified.” His voice was once warm and smooth like honey, but now it was sharp and cold like hail._

_“Please, Thomas…” I sobbed. My legs felt like jelly beneath me._

_“Please, what? What is it that you want?”_

_“Don’t… Please, don’t kill me.”_

_“Why shouldn’t I? I’ve gotten what I need out of you. And it’s not like you’ll stay calm in my presence now that you know that.”_

_“I’ve told you everything I know. I don’t know anything else, I swear.”_

_He pulled my hair tighter and pressed his gun to my side. “Drop your weapon.” I did as he asked. After the surprise of him finding me, I had totally forgotten about it anyway. It was useless._

_“I loved you.” It was the only thing my brain could think of, sort of like a last ditch effort to convince him._

_“I know.” I heard the shot before I felt it. He released my hair, and I dropped back against the tree. I felt my skull crack with the impact._

_“T-thomas…”He raised the gun again, this time toward my chest._

_“What? Are you going to tell me you love me again? Will it help if I say it back?”_

_“Please… no… please… please, no…” I repeated, shaking my head. They were the only things I remembered how to say. Another shot. I cried in agony, warm blood bubbling up in my throat and spewing from my lips._

_“This is fun! It’s a shame that it’s only a one time gig, but I think I’ll be able to get the same enjoyment out of doing this to your employer, too. Although, it won’t have the romantic build-up.” I tried gasping for air, but I just kept choking on blood. He raised the gun one last time. I writhed like a worm that had been cut in half with a stone. Another shot into my chest, and then one in my head._

 

I gasped unevenly as I jolted awake on the sofa. Embers crackled in the fireplace across the living room. All was still. A sheen of sweat coated my body. I threw off the blanket and swung my legs over the side of the couch. _It was just a nightmare_. I rested my elbows against my knees and raked my hands through my hair. _Just a nightmare_.

After a few moments of regaining my sanity, I trudged to the kitchen to make coffee and grab something pre-made to eat. Tom and I hadn't had a cooking lesson since the pasta, and I didn't want to risk actually chopping off my finger this time. There was still a thin scab from the knife, but it would be gone soon.

Tom left a few hours ago to tend to some business. I couldn't help but feel paranoid without him near me—I didn't know if Ms. C knew of my location, so she could have sent someone after me. I knew where Tom kept the guns, but I wasn't sure if I could get to them if someone broke in. _Don't think about it_.

I searched through the cupboards and fridge, but nothing appealed to me. I finally settled for a banana from the counter basket. Taking my coffee, I settled back down on the sofa in the living room.

My phone buzzed with a message from an unknown number as I peeled my banana.

_Have you eaten anything? -TH_

I bit the fruit and typed back my reply.

_Just having a banana now. Weird number? -LD_

_Got us new phones. What are you in the mood for? I'm getting some groceries while I'm out. -TH_

Another text from Tom came through before I could reply. I smiled.

_'LD.' I love it, little dove. -TH_

_Thank you, Thomas. As for food… Surprise me? -LD_

_You may just regret that. -TH_

_NOTHING WITH ONIONS! -LD_

_Noted. Be home soon. xxx -TH_

My stomach flipped. Even though it was true, Tom referring to this as his “home” filled me with glee. It sounded so domestic—almost as if we were husband and wife, and he was out running simple errands after work. I couldn't wipe the smile off my face, which was a huge improvement from how I felt right after I awoke.

What started out as a terrible evening turned into a relaxing and easy night. Tom returned with the groceries and new phones. He made us a delicious chicken and broccoli stir fry, making sure to cut the onions large enough for me to pick them out. He even shared his glass of wine with me, although I wasn't supposed to have it. Afterward, we activated the new phones he bought and destroyed the old ones with a hammer.

“So, what did you do today?” I asked. We were curled up on the couch in front of the fire. My legs were draped across his, and I leaned my head against his shoulder.

“I got the GPS chip out of the anklet. It's with an analyst right now.”

“Sounds exciting,” I mumbled, subconsciously rubbing my foot against my ankle.

“What about you?”

“I accidentally napped.”

“Accidentally?”

“It was unplanned.” Tom brushed his knuckles up and down my arm soothingly.

“Any nice dreams?” I looked away.

“Actually, I had a nightmare.”

“Oh. About what?”

“Uh…”

“If you don't want to discuss it, I get it.”

“No, I feel like I should. To get it off my chest, you know?” He nodded in response, and I told him everything. I couldn't look him in the eyes. He took my hand in his and caressed it reassuringly.

“I'm sorry you had that nightmare.”

“It's just my overactive imagination, I guess. It _was_ just a nightmare.” Tom hummed in agreement, but I couldn't help but notice the hard line of his lips and the slight scowl he wore as he stared at the fire. I brushed it off as being tired from his long day. “Thank you for dinner.” He finally looked back at me with a sweet smile.

“It was my pleasure, little dove.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for any typos. This is my least favorite chapter, so I only read it over twice and might have missed a few things.


	7. Chapter 7

“Little dove,” Tom whispered, entering the bedroom. My eyes fluttered open and I turned to look at him.

“What is it?” I grumbled, squinting at the bright light behind him. The room was still dark, except for the light from the hallway, so it was either late at night or early in the morning.

“I have a surprise.” He grinned from ear to ear.

“Can't it wait until it gets light out?”

“We need to go before the sun rises.”

“Tooommm,” I whined, pulling the duvet over my head. Tom sat down on the mattress next to me and pulled the blanket back.

“Up, darling. You'll be glad.”

“What if it's a shitty surprise?” I knew it wouldn't be. This man had incredible taste and loved spoiling me.

“ _Darling_ ,” he stated in his you-and-I-both-know-that's-not-a-possibility tone.

I sat up, stretching my arms and hearing the familiar pop of my elbows. He stood and helped me do the same. I wobbled on my feet from getting up too fast.

He dressed me in one of his large, crew neck sweatshirts and some jeans he bought for me when he went out to get me the basics. He also decided to offer me some black, lace panties and just so happened to omit a bra. Although I was used to being bra-less around Tom, it felt strange leaving the house without one.

We were out the door in minutes after I freshened up my face and brushed my teeth. Tom held my gloved hand firmly in his and led me down a snow-covered path behind the house and into the surrounding woods, using a flashlight to guide our way. I followed obediently, willing myself not to ask any questions. As we walked further and further from the house, I started to wonder where the hell he was taking me. The woods seemed never ending and grew progressively darker, if at all possible. And I definitely didn't expect to start walking uphill.

“Where are you taking me?” I mumbled into the scarf wrapped around my neck. I stumbled over a hidden rock and almost lost my footing. I momentarily flashed back to the nightmare I had a few days ago. _What if it was some weird premonition? What if he's going to murder me in the woods where no one will ever find me?_ I shook myself out of it.

“You sound like I'm kidnapping you,” he chuckled, holding me upright.

“I wouldn't be surprised if you were,” I laughed nervously with him, only half joking.

“We’re almost there, little dove. Don't you worry.” He squeezed my hand reassuringly. I followed close behind, growing more anxious as we kept moving forward.

Finally, he stopped us at the top of the hill. There was a clearing on the side where the trees opened up to a dark abyss. I couldn't see anything but the end of the ground where an obvious cliff dropped off. The bitter winds nipped at my cheeks.

“Oh, God. You're not going to kill me are you? Not by cliff, surely.” My heart raced. _You're being irrational_ , I told myself, but I didn't really believe it. I still had my doubts about Tom, and the similarities of this outing to my dream only worked to terrify me more.

“Of course not. I enjoy your company far too much.” I couldn't tell by his joking tone if he knew I was sort-of-serious.

He turned off the flashlight and positioned me so I looked toward the opening of trees. He wrapped himself around me and chuckled. I spun around in his arms and pulled him down into a hard—but loving—kiss, almost like the ones in romance movies. It served to calm my nerves and also to reassure Tom that I cared for him, even though I was irrationally nervous.

“I enjoy yours as well, Thomas.”

“Oh, I love when you say my full name.”

I smiled and kissed him again. The sky grew lighter, and once we parted, Tom turned me back around to watch the sun rise over the largest valley I had ever seen. Snow covered the expanse, glistening in the sunlight. I gasped at the beauty of it.

“There's one more surprise.” I turned back around. “Here it is.” He reached into his pocket.

“Oh my god, please tell me it _isn’t_ a ring.” I pressed a hand to my frozen cheek.

“No, it's not.” He pulled out a small—but too big to be a ring—velvet box. “I remember you saying you missed the anklet—that you felt like something was missing without it.” His visible puffs of warm breath dissipated into the air. He cracked open the box to reveal a golden chain with a small, flat, golden dove charm. “I figured you'd like a new one—one that doesn't send people after us.”

“Oh my god, Thomas.”

“Consider it a late Christmas gift or a little something to begin the new year with.” He knelt down into the snow and unclasped the chain. “Little dove, would you do me the honor of accepting this expensive piece of jewelry?”

“Yes, yes! A thousand times, yes!” I joked. He laughed and fastened the anklet into place under my jeans. “This is so thoughtful, Thomas. Thank you.”

“Of course. Anything for you.”


	8. Chapter 8

I felt the bed dip on Tom's side. I groaned and rolled over to face him.

“Go back to sleep, little dove.”

“What's the matter?”

“Nothing. Go back to sleep.”

“You're lying.” I sat up and turned on the light next to me. A soft, yellow glow filled the room. I squinted and turned to Tom to examine his features. The bags under his eyes drooped and whispered of his lack of sleep. He slumped back onto the wall in defeat. “Tell me what's the matter.”

“Why do you not trust me?” he blurted.

“What?”

“When I gave you the anklet yesterday… Right before I did, you asked me if I was going to push you off the cliff.” He snickered in disbelief and rubbed his eyes and cheeks with one of his large hands. “You have reiterated multiple times that you feel like I'm just trying to deceive you.” I shifted and turned my body toward him. “And you’re having nightmares about me killing you, and you jump whenever I come up behind you or into a room unannounced.”

“I'm just paranoid,” I whispered.

“Why? What is there to be paranoid about?”

“I don't know. I just… I don't know.”

“Please, tell me more about what you don't know,” he spat in defense, almost without thought.  

“She brainwashed me, Thomas! She always told me you were the enemy and would stop at nothing to seduce me and turn me against her. I took a leap of faith—”

“Haven't I earned your trust?” It was a question more for himself than me.

“—because it was either be tortured and killed by her for failing my task or risk conversion, torture, or death for the possibility of safety with you.” He stood from the mattress in annoyance.

“So, you trust in her artificial paranoia but not in me? I saved your life!” He threw his hand in the air out of frustration.

“And I am _grateful_! I'm grateful for all the things you've done for me!” I felt bile rise in my throat as the words spewed from me. Deep down, I knew Tom's feelings were valid. I was just too stubborn to admit that I had fallen for him this hard. I knew my fear of him hurting me physically was irrational; he was so gentle and transparent with me. I was scared of getting hurt emotionally. _That's_ what I was really paranoid about. “I think it's perfectly okay that I'm a little bit afraid of you!” I covered. I didn’t want him to know how I really felt. I was too proud to be that vulnerable. “I know what you're capable of. I've done some terrible things that you probably have too! I'm sorry for not wanting to end up dead in an alley or the woods somewhere because I let my heart get in the way of my head!” A shiver ran through me as Ms. C’s words resonated through me. _Work over heart._ I physically shook myself out of it. It wasn't work over heart anymore. It was work _with_ my heart—be _guided by_ my heart. Tom was my heart. I couldn't let her get in my head and in the way of my relationship anymore.

I was standing, now, trying to make sense of everything. He stalked around the edge of the bed toward me.

“Get out of your self-pitying bubble, (y/n)! I didn't even know you were a spy until that night! Why would I even try to cross you? _You’re_ the one who should be earning my trust, not the other way around!” I fell silent with rage, frustration, and confusion, trying to comprehend everything from his reasoning to the mantra of _work over heart_ ringing in my ears. “You and I are working toward the same goal! We’re trying to get rid of her! We’re partners now, whether you like it or not. And do you know what partners do, (y/n)? They _trust each other_! They _care_ for each other.” His voice shook. “You don't think I have feelings too? What if I let them get in the way of my head? Huh?! We would _both_ die! But that doesn't stop me from trusting you! I've trusted you since we met in that art gala, and I still do, even though I know you were _blatantly lying_ to get close to me!” We were almost chest to chest, engaged in a screaming match.

“It wasn't all a lie! Everything that night—every date, everything I said, everything I did—was real! The only thing I kept from you was my job! I fell _so_ _hard_ for you that night that I forgot I was on a mission until you handed me your coat and left.” My blood boiled, and even though I resolved my fears in my own mind, I couldn't help but keep arguing with Tom. We were in a rhythm that kept rolling. “Why do you even care so much about whether I trust you or not?!”

“BECAUSE I _LOVE_ YOU, (Y/N)!” he shouted. And then the rhythm stopped.

I stood there, shocked and shaking. His heaving chest blew welcomed breaths that smelled of day-old coffee in my face.

“Because I…” he barely whispered, running a hand through his short, dirty blond curls. “Because I love you.” Tears streamed down both of our cheeks. “I fell in love with you the first time I laid eyes on you.”

“You love me?”

“Of course! Of course I _fucking_ love you, you stupid, beautiful, brilliant girl.” He cupped my cheeks in his hands. “I absolutely love you.” He kissed me hard and long, his stale-coffee-flavored tongue mingling with mine. I whimpered into his mouth as he walked me back against a wall. “I love you,” he murmured against my lips. My cheeks burned as he worked his way down my jaw, whispering “I love you” over and over like a mantra. I fisted my hand in his hair and let my head fall back against the wall.

“Thomas,” I breathed. He continued his ravaging, found my pert nipples, and suckled them through my shirt. I arched into him. His hands ran down my sides and squeezed my ass. He teased and released my breasts one by one, leaving wet spots on the shirt, and moved back up to my neck, latching on and sucking to his heart's content. “Thoooommaasss…” My grip on his short locks faltered as he nibbled on my skin and hoisted me up by my ass. I wrapped my legs around his waist and teased him with my hips.

“I love you,” he reminded me breathlessly. He spun us around and headed toward the bed, throwing me onto the mattress and crawling on top of me. He pulled off my top, and I wiggled out of my panties. I tugged his shirt off and he pulled down his boxers.

“I want to ride you,” I blurted. Tom smirked and laid down next to me.

“As you wish.” I grinned and straddled him, kissing his neck and chest while undulating my hips to arouse him further. I pinned his wrists at his sides, catching him by surprise. I pressed a sweet kiss to his lips and moved a hand from his wrist to his shaft. Tom groaned beneath me as I positioned myself over him. “Wait!” he almost shouted, startling me onto my ass between his legs.

“What’s wrong?”

“We are _not_ risking it. I love you, but I want no children in this situation.” My eyes widened as I realized; I had gotten so caught up in dominating him that I forgot about protection.

“Where?”

“Your side.” I crawled over to my night stand and pulled the drawer open, a bit too sharply. I fumbled with the box of condoms before pulling one out and ripping the packet open with my teeth. “You're not supposed to do that, you know.”

“Yeah, but it's sexy, so shut up.” I threw the foil somewhere and rolled the condom down his length, following it with my cunt.

“Ohhh… Oh, little dove,” he moaned. I winced at his girth as I sank into him.

“Speaking of trust, you're my first, by the way.” He grunted even louder and longer.

“I almost came right… then, you seductress,” he strained out.

“Enjoy it,” I said before kissing his chest. I looked up at him innocently through my lashes. “I'm only a virgin once.” Tom moaned.

“I like this side of you,” he chuckled. I slid up his length and eased myself back down. He let out a few light _ah_ ’s before speaking again. “Makes me think of you on missions.” I clenched my muscles around him, and he cried out in ecstasy, screwing his eyes shut. “My sexy spy seducing others into submission.”

“Whatever works for you,” I began, grinding faster on his shaft as I leaned into his ear, “ _Thomas._ ”

“Fu-uh-ck,” he growled as he came.

“I tend to—” I whimpered as his dick twitched inside me, still riding him. “—be submissive on jobs, actually.”

“Really?”

“I usually am at home when I masturbate, too. When we first started dating… I used to think about what you'd do to me when we finally slept together… So many dirty thoughts of you taking control.” I nuzzled my nose into the side of his neck. “I'm just riled up right now from our—” Another whimper. “—fight. I needed your cock so bad and didn't want to wait.”

Suddenly I found myself flipped on my back underneath him.

“Then allow me to tap into my favored dominant side for the both of us,” he purred. I already had a taste of this persona. It was what he was like in the field; the night in the office, with the gun trailing down my jaw, my breath forcing my chest to rub against his, that was it. He was a much better dom than I, and it’s what I longed for: the sense of security that a strong, commanding man like himself could give me. But I loved him even more outside the bedroom, too. His soft side was more endearing than I could ever hope for.

I was trying so hard to keep my composure. I didn't want to come yet because I wanted to work on Tom more, but I knew it would happen in a matter of moments, especially with his thumb circling my clit.

“Come.”

“N-no. I'm strong enough to keep—ah—pleasuring you first.” That was a lie.

“I said…” He leaned down next to my ear. “ _Come_ , little dove.”

And I did.

 

* * *

 

Waking up naked never felt so good. Tom spooned me with his arm wrapped around my middle, holding me close. Memories of our fight and make up sex flooded back to me. I smiled, thinking of how we ended up on the shower floor and how nice the warm water felt on my back in addition to Tom's cock inside me.

I flipped over to face him and found him awake.

“Good morning, little dove.” He nuzzled his nose into my cheek.

“I love you,” I blurted. “I didn't say it last night, but I really, really love you.” Tom smiled sleepily.

“I know you do.” We lay there in silence as he played with my hair.

He was so beautiful. I loved everything about him: his eyes, his nose, his hair and his cheekbones, his lips, his body, his ears… Everything. Not even just his physical appearance, either. I loved his sincerity and his strength, his humor, seriousness, and possessiveness… I could go on forever.

“You know, you make cute noises when you sleep,” he mentioned. “Quiet little moans and sometimes mumbles.”

“That's embarrassing.” I blushed.

“It's adorable. You also curl up as small as possible, which makes it easier to cuddle with you.”

“I'm glad I make sleeping convenient,” I joked. Tom kissed my nose. “I have to say, I enjoy being naked. I used to sleep in the nude all the time.”

“I also enjoy you naked.” He smirked.

“I know you do, Thomas.”

“Does this mean you'll walk around topless more?”

“Maybe. I'll definitely sleep naked from now on. Unless it’s too cold, or I don't want to.”

“Perfect.” He grinned brighter than the sun.

After our fight, it was clear we needed to sit down and have a conversation. I wanted to discuss my feelings with him in a civil manner, rather than in a 4 AM screaming match. I needed to tell him about coming to terms with the propaganda that Ms. C fed to me about keeping my emotions bottled up to focus on work. If I could talk to him about everything she told me, maybe he would understand why I was so overly-cautious. He was so trusting and open that I knew he would get it. I also knew that I need to work on my own capacity to trust, and I needed his help. Trusting Tom would be easy— it's trusting _myself_ that would take some time.


	9. Chapter 9

“I can't believe that's a real thing. I always thought you needed special tools for that.”

“I can teach you,” I said, adding more pins into my hair. I saw Tom fix his bowtie next to me in the mirror. “You've been a criminal for how long? And you've never picked a lock?”

“I never needed to. People did it for me.”

“Then I bet you wasted a _lot_ of money on lock-picking kits for them. You only need two Bobby pins.” I uncapped my peach lipstick and smoothed it on my plump lips. “Well, you _can_ do it with just one, but it's way easier with two.” Tom moved behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist.

“I'd love to learn how.” He kissed my neck. “Especially if you're my teacher, Ms. (y/l/n),” he growled.

“Save the dirty talk for after the charity ball, Thomas,” I chastised, turning around in his arms and pecking his lips. We gazed into each other's eyes as I wiped my lipstick from his mouth with my thumb. “We've got a lot to do tonight.”

“And I'm happy to be your arm candy while we do it, little dove.”

“Pfft. What? _You_ _?_ Arm candy? Shut up.” Tom chuckled as he kissed me again. We finished touching ourselves up and headed out to the car. Tom opened my door for me like the true gentleman he was, and I slid inside, making sure not to catch my gown in the door.

My favorite thing about Tom driving his Jag was how well he handled it. His turns were always smooth and he never lost control of his speed. The way he gripped the steering wheel made the veins in his hands pop out, which was always oddly attractive to me. He looked so suave behind the wheel in his tux—almost like something out of a James Bond movie.

It took us about an hour to get to the venue. The valet opened my door for me after he took Tom’s keys. I thanked him and took Tom’s arm as he led me inside the building.

“If our information is correct, she'll be arriving at ten,” he whispered in my ear. I barely heard what he said over the crowd around us.

“It's not like we’re actors or anything, so why are the paparazzi here?” I asked, ignoring the flashing lights in favor of looking at Tom.

“There _are_ a few actors here, little dove. And I'm very popular amongst the business elite.” He smirked down at me.

“I'm glad I took the time to look my best then,” I joked.

“You’ll look even better once I get you all to myself,” he growled. A pleasant shiver ran down my spine.

Once inside, I kept a flute of champagne in one hand, and the other on Tom’s arm while we mingled with his associates and other guests. Having him beside me with the knowledge that he was mine made me feel the best I had in a long time. _I can't believe I used to think being single was better than this_ , I thought. Every so often, Tom and I would find ourselves gazing at each other. Sometimes he would wink and make sexy faces, and other times his expression would be so sweet and full of love. My heart swelled every time.

We came across an older gentleman who had greeted us in passing before. He caught Tom’s attention, and the pair of us walked up the grand staircase to him.

“Who is this lovely lady, dear Thomas?” he asked. I blushed.

“This is my girlfriend, (y/n),” he explained, smiling down at me. “(Y/n), this is my mentor, Sir Ben Kingsley.”

“It's a pleasure,” I said, taking his hand.

“The pleasure is all mine, sweet girl.” He kissed my knuckles. I laughed and turned to Tom.

“Is this where you get your charm from?”

“I like to think _he_ gets it from _me_ ,” Tom chuckled.

The three of us talked for a while about Tom and I—how we met, how long we’ve been together—and Ben’s work. Tom left out the part about me being a spy who worked for his rival and then turned to his side after falling in love with him. I understood why.

He and Ben used to run a company together before Ben parted ways to retire. Tom still heads the operations, but it's taken a back seat to his work now.

“More champagne, little dove?”

“Please, Thomas.” He took my empty flute and bounced down the stairs. I watched with a dreamy smile on my face.

“Now, I have to ask this because I know how that boy can get…” I turned to face Ben. His expression was hard with concern. “Does he hurt you? Physically, I mean.” If I had a drink, I would have choked on it. “I don't mean to frighten you, I'm merely asking because you don't deserve to be hurt.”

“Of course not, and I mean that.” I took his hand in both of mine. “My Thomas is the sweetest, most gentle and loving man in the world to me. I promise.” Ben smiled.

“Good. I would have beat him otherwise.”

It was getting later, and we still had to retrieve information from a locked computer about all the guests at the ball, just to find Ms. C. I finished my second flute of champagne and was noticeably more relaxed.

“Well, Ben, it's been a pleasure, but (y/n) and I must—”

Then there was a gunshot. And screaming.

Tom and I whipped around to see a woman lying on the marble floor below, a man kneeling at her side. The other attendees were scattered around, silently taking shelter behind sculptures and hors d'œuvres tables. I clutched Tom’s arm to ground myself. _So much for being relaxed._

“Do you see anyone?” he whispered so Ben couldn't hear, but _I_ didn't hear him. Blood started to pool around the young woman.

“They killed an innocent?”

“Little dove, I need you to focus.”

“They've never done that.”

“Do you see anyone?” I shook myself out of it and frantically searched the room for assassins.

“Not that I know. Just guests.”

“What the bloody hell is going on?” Ben whispered behind us. Tom ignored him.

“We need to remove you before—”

Another gunshot. And another bullet in my leg.

“Ah!” I was down within seconds. Tom dropped to the floor with me and held me close. Everyone below panicked and ran around like headless chickens. He turned around to Ben.

“I need you to do me a favor.” Tom pulled his gun from his interior jacket pocket.

“Anything.”

“Find whoever is shooting.” He handed Ben the weapon. “Incapacitate them.”

“I'm on it, my boy.” I didn't even register their conversation. Tears filled my eyes and I clutched at my leg.

“Tom, Tom it hurts. Thomas...” The bullet burrowed in the skin just above my knee—any lower and I wouldn't have been able to walk. “Tommy… I can't… It hurts so bad.”

“Breathe. You need to breathe, (y/n). You're going into shock.” He wrapped his arms around me and rocked me back and forth. “Ben’s going to find the shooter. You're going to be okay. It's just your leg.” I kept crying, but Tom’s reassurances calmed me. “We need to move.” I nodded, and he lifted me into his arms.

We found shelter in an unoccupied office. Tom ripped the bottom of my dress and wrapped it around my leg. He kissed my cheek and made a few calls to his team.

“At least it wasn't you this time,” I sniffled. A small smile crept over his lips.

“I would never shoot at you.”

“I know. Never _again,_ ” I teased. He huffed out a laugh and sat next to me on the loveseat.

“Sorry about your dress,” Tom said as he reached beneath the slit of the red fabric and pulled out the gun attached to my other leg.

“It's just a dress.”

“I know, but you look so pretty in it.”

A fist pounded on the door. Tom immediately shot up with the handgun poised. My heart raced again. I reached for my Glock for protection out of instinct, even though it was right in front of me in Tom's hands.

He inched closer to the door, standing to the side. He motioned for me to hide behind something as his hand reached for the doorknob. I scurried behind the loveseat as fast as I could.

He opened the door swiftly, ready to defend, and in Ben came, dragging a semi-conscious man in after him.

“Oh, thank god.” Tom relaxed. I peeked over the arm of the sofa. He locked the door again and retrieved me from the floor. Ben threw his captive into a heavy wooden chair and bound him with some packing tape from inside the desk.

I watched the scene unfold as Thomas turned away from me and stalked toward the third man. He towered in front of the dazed assassin.

“Tell me who you work for.” His voice was low and harsh, but composed. The captive just watched him with narrowing eyes. I didn't recognize him, so I wasn't sure if he was one of Ms. C’s or not. “Do not make me ask again.” I begged with my eyes for the man to just tell him—to get it over with. He didn't.

A loud crack resounded in the room as Tom hit him across the face with his gun. I winced, and Ben noticed.

“Thomas, maybe we should move your girl somewh—”

“She's fine.” If I hadn't been so afraid and shocked, I probably would have been aroused by this display of dominance and control. “Who do you work for?” The man spat out a bloody tooth, which in hindsight was actually a pretty cool movie trick.

“Mademoiselle Say.”

“Ms… _Say_?” Tom asked, puzzled. The assassin’s heavy French accent triggered something in my head.

“He's saying Ms. C, Thomas.” All those years of French classes weren't useless after all. “‘Say’ is how you pronounce the letter C.” I told him, surprised he didn't catch onto that sooner with his own background in French. Then it hit me. “Unless—”

“—her name is Ms. _Say._ ”

“Oh my god.”

Suddenly, the captive thrashed against his bonds and I jumped in my seat. Tom backhanded him, and he sat still again, breathing heavily and glaring.

“Don't make me put a bullet through your throat.” Tom turned to me and knelt at my feet. Tears still flowed down my cheeks from the pain in my leg, and Tom brushed them away with his thumb. “Are you going to be alright?” His face was soft but concerned. I nodded.

“Pathetic,” the Frenchman spat. “I bet he's a terrible, needy fuck.” Tom inhaled sharply and stood, turning away from me. He resumed his hard façade.

“ _Where_ is your employer?” he asked, ignoring the previous comment. Ben moseyed behind the chair and put his hands on the captive’s shoulders, slowly closing in on his neck. “Tell me what I need to know… or I'll kill you.” I watched in sickening awe as these two men brutally beat answers from him. Now I knew why Ben had asked if Tom hurt me.

Before we left the office and the assassin, Tom taped his mouth shut and reinforced the tape on his arms and legs. I would never forget the way Tom looked down on him with disdain and disgust before shooting him in the shoulder. The man sobbed like a child.

“I'm a _great_ fuck,” he sneered before lifting me up from the couch effortlessly. He paused, turning back toward him. “And you _know it._ ” Ben shut the door behind us.

 

* * *

 

“You never did get to teach me to lock pick,” Tom mused from the floor, nursing my wound. I bit down on his old leather wallet and whimpered as he surgically removed the bullet. “Shh, shh, shh, little dove. It's okay. It's okay,” he cooed. Pained tears ran down my face as he tended to me. I thought about one of our dates to get my mind off of it.

 

_This was our fourth meeting. We had known each other for three months, but I still couldn't believe his kindness wasn't a façade. There was no way he was genuinely this caring—after all, he was a criminal. I had seen the things he could do._

_But whenever he was around me, he was all smiles and light laughter. He was so gentle with me—as if I were some fragile creature who could be hurt with one touch._

_This meeting, however, was special. Instead of us running into each other, we were on a date—our second date._

_He invited me to dinner at a fancy Italian restaurant. We had grown so close that I almost didn't think twice before agreeing. I forgot I was on a mission; earn his trust, then get the information and run._

_There was no doubt in my mind that I was falling for Tom; he was a regular Prince Charming. Sure, he was a white-collar criminal, but he was so sweet to me. It made me wonder how he would react if he found out I was working against him—or if he already knew and was playing me back. Would he torture me for answers and intel? Would he try to convert me? I quickly realized I would be no match for his anger. I cared about him too much, and if he were angry, I wouldn't be able to keep my emotions—and lust—in check._

“I'm going to fuck the answers out of you, little dove.” _I could hear him say. I would not resist him_ _if he pushed me against a wall and took me._ “I'm going to tease you until you beg for me to take you prisoner. I'll make you come so many times, you’ll forget who really owns your mind.”

_My mouth went dry as I came back to reality. Tom sat across from me with a sweet smile on his face._

_“Everything alright, little dove?” I grinned back._

_“Of course. Sorry,” I chuckled. “I was thinking about work.”_

_“Any way I can make you forget about it?” My mind flashed back to my fantasy._

_“Just keep me in the present,” I told him, taking his hand in mine over the table._

_As we talked, I found out even more about my mysterious target. He loved nature and going for runs through the park, he was a great dancer—which I already knew—and he was a sucker for dessert. He seemed like such an ordinary guy, but I couldn't shake the voice in the back of my mind telling me that he was just another target and that he was only trying to get my guard down._

_That night, he brought me to his apartment so we could watch movies and drink wine. We still hadn't kissed yet, and I was trying to keep it that way. If I didn't kiss him, then I couldn't miss his lips after I completed my mission._

_We didn't end up kissing, but we_ did _fall asleep on his sofa. I was on top of him with my head on his chest, and he held me tight to him. It was perfect. I never wanted to leave._ So much for not getting any more attached, _I thought._

 

“There. All finished, little dove.” I wiped my wet cheeks with the back of my hand and released the wallet when Tom tried to pull it away. I didn’t realize how much having something in my mouth made me drool, but the leather was soaked and some of my spit dripped down my chin. I wiped that away too.

“Sorry, ew. That was so gross," I said, wincing. Tom laughed.

“It’s alright. Now time to get you as high as a kite.” He waggled his eyebrows and I rolled my eyes with a sniffle.

“On pain meds, you mean.” I smiled. 


	10. Chapter 10

_My heart couldn’t beat any faster. My adrenaline was through the roof. I had to get the information before Tom found out._

_“Come on, come on, come on,” I whispered, pleading for the computer to go faster. I could feel my pulse in my aching feet, and I slipped out of my pumps. “Come on…”_

_“I can't say I expected this would end in heartbreak and betrayal, little dove.” I jumped and looked up at him. His expression was cool and collected, but his eyes were full of disappointment and sadness. I probably looked like a deer in headlights. I stood up straight._

_“Thomas—”_

_“How did you get in here?” I was silent. “How did you even know this was my office?” Again, silence. His eyes fell away from mine to his desk. “What are you doing with my computer? Hm?” I couldn't shake the feeling of being a puppy reprimanded by its owner. I had lied to him, but I hadn't wanted to. I was ashamed and overflowing with guilt._

_My eyes flickered to the screen and saw the download bar at 97%._

_“Uncovering a psychopath.” The words stung my throat like acid. I couldn’t even convince myself that’s what I was doing with the shake in my voice._

_“Not a psychopath. Just a businessman doing business.”_

_“Either way.” I glanced away for a moment as I felt tears brimming in my eyes. My heart was breaking. I blinked them away quickly and watched the computer screen._

_“I should have known you were too good to be true.” That was like a punch to the stomach._

_The bar hit 100%. I looked back up to see him surprisingly calm._ Great handle on his emotions, _I thought before ripping the thumb drive from the computer and simultaneously pulling out my gun. My movements were smooth until it came time to actually point the gun at him. His eyes flashed with fear._

 _When you train with guns, they always tell you not to point at anyone unless you're in immediate danger because the gun could go off somehow and hurt them. That piece of advice really shook me in that moment. I really didn't want to hurt Tom. I_ couldn't _hurt him. I loved him. I really,_ really _loved him._ Nothing says “I love you” like a gun in your face, _I thought. I just needed it to keep him from attacking me._

_“Hands up, please,” I requested. A tremor ran through my hands. I noticed him notice. Tom lifted his arms over his head and watched with a glint of skepticism in his eyes as I crept around the desk on my toes. I kept my gun pointed while I backed out of the room. Before I made a run for it, I paused, catching him off guard. “I can't say I expected to fall in love with you.”_

_Then I ran for my god damned life. Luckily, I had already taken my heels off, so running was a lot easier. If I wasn't crying and trying to stay alive, I would have been impressed with how_ film noir _my last line sounded. I pushed open the door for the stairwell right as a shot went off from behind. The bullet zipped past me into the metal door, but managed to graze my thigh. I hissed and continued flying down the stairs, shoving the flash drive between my breasts. At each landing, a few men would jump out of the door, and I would shoot them dead and continue on my way._

_The only sounds I could hear were my harsh breaths and the blood pumping in my ears. I made it down six flights of stairs before I ran back into some offices. I slowed a little and took in the empty room. Silence—except for Mariah Carey’s “All I Want For Christmas is You” playing quietly from the back of the room. Everything hit me at once. I trudged over to a corner cubicle and slid down to the floor. I wept silently._

_I couldn’t believe what I had just done. I hurt the man I fell in love with. I couldn’t help but regret ever agreeing to this mission. If I hadn’t, then I wouldn’t have had to break his heart. I wouldn’t have had to break my_ own _heart._ Shut up, _I scolded myself._ It was worth the time you got to spend with him. _If only I had gotten more time. If only it were a normal relationship._

_My palms were sweating, and I clutched tighter at my gun to keep it from slipping. My stockings were stiff with the dried blood. My wound wasn’t bleeding as much anymore, but I still needed to get somewhere and wrap something around my leg to stop it completely before I bled out._

_My chest heaved. I didn’t know where or when the next guys would find me. I had to be running out of bullets. To my advantage, I wore all black to the dinner, so I blended into the shadows of the dark room pretty well, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t discover me._

_I heard heavy boots thump across the rough carpet. I hugged my gun to my chest as my adrenaline skyrocketed again. I watched in the reflection of the window for anyone._

_“Find her!” I heard Tom snap from across the room._

_“We’ve searched every—”_ Bang! _I clamped a hand over my lips to keep silent._ He shot him.

 _“No more excuses! And I want her_ alive _,” he choked. “Do you understand?”_

_“Yes, sir,” the same voice from before answered shakily. I heard the parade of men retreat from the room and into the stairwells. Everything was quiet, but I didn’t dare move._

_“Come out, little dove.” His voice was raspy, as if he had been crying. I didn't realize that I had stopped breathing. “You were wrapped up so prettily at the party… I just want my present back.”_ And for me to return what's yours _, I thought. I scrambled to my feet and swiftly crept along the back wall of cubicles, keeping my gun poised to fire._

 _It wasn’t about the information anymore; I couldn’t face him again. I was running from my feelings. The only way I could ground myself was to repeat_ “work over heart” _to myself like a mantra, despite how nauseating it was. My cheeks were still wet with tears. “I'm going to be honest with you, my darling…” I shivered. “I’ve said that line on every other floor of this building in hopes that you'd be on it. I hope I am not wrong this time.”_

_I tiptoed again, moving swiftly against the wall._

_“All I want…” he sang shakily. I halted and waited to hear him speak again to confirm his location. “For Christmas…” And then the damned thumb tack pierced my skin._

_His soft, bare hand clamped over my mouth, and I flailed and writhed, trying to turn around and fight back, but his grip was too tight._

_“…Is you,” he breathed in my ear. I kept trying to twist around to fight him. “Little dove, please,” he managed through gritted teeth. “Please, stop struggling. I just need you to listen.” I wriggled my face away from his hand._

_“No! Let me go!”_

_“Just talk to me!” He twisted my arm in an outrageous position, and I fired at the ceiling before dropping my gun. He backed me against the frozen window. The glass bit my skin, and I shivered. “(Y/n), please listen. I just want to talk.” Tears streamed down both of our cheeks. He searched my eyes for any form of protest. “I don’t want to hurt you, I just want to know why.” His eyes searched mine. “Please.” He kissed me softly, and I melted into him. Our first kiss, and it only took heartbreak and a bullet wound to achieve it._

_“You shot me.” I ignored his question._

_“I know, and I’m so sorry.” He loosened his tie and removed it so he could wrap it around my leg. “Why are you doing this, little dove?” He sounded a little more composed than before._

_“She’s going to kill me, Thomas.” I started hyperventilating. “She’ll kill me when she finds out I failed.” He looked confused for a split second before his face turned hard. He knew exactly who I was talking about._

_“No, she won’t. I won’t let her. I have wanted you for so long. I won’t lose you.”_

_“Please, help me.” I reached into my bra and pulled out the thumb drive, offering it to him with a shaky hand. “Please, Thomas. Take me away from her. Help me escape. Please.” I cried. “I need you.”_

 

I woke up sweating and in tears. I sat up, my knee throbbing and Tom still sleeping soundly next to me. I grazed my fingers over the scar on my thigh. _Thank god it was just a dream._ I never wanted to go through that emotional roller coaster of a night again.

“Tom,” I whispered, poking him. He didn't stir. “Tommy,” I said and shook him a little harder.

He inhaled sharply and his eyes fluttered open.

“What is it, (y/n)?” he mumbled into his pillow.

“I had a nightmare again.” My voice cracked, and that was Tom’s cue to sit up. He stretched his limbs and then pulled me close to him.

“What was it about?”

“Christmas Eve.” He noticed me sniffle and tilted my head up.

“Did I…?” … _Kill you?_ He didn't have to finish. I shook my head.

“No, I just… I just…” I couldn't find the words.

“Shh, little dove.”

“It wasn't you.”

“Someone else killed you?”

“No. No… I didn't die.” I sighed shakily. “It was me. I… I never want to break your heart like that again.” Tom was visibly shocked by this. “I love you so much, Thomas. I'm so sorry for everything I did to you. I never got to tell you how sorry I am.”

“Hush… I love you so much. Everything is okay now, I promise.” He pulled me into his chest. “I know you didn't want to hurt me.”

“You do? How?”

“Well, as if our time together hasn’t been enough of a reason.” He smiled down at me before getting serious again. “When I caught you by the window… You were so scared. You were _terrified_ of her, (y/n).” He kissed the top of my head. “You were shaking and sobbing in my arms, telling me how sorry you were.”

“I… was?”

“Don’t you remember?” I stared at his chest.

“No…” Nothing made sense. The way I remembered it happening was that I was thinking about how much I wanted Tom to push me up against the wall and kiss me; thinking about how sexy he sounded; wondering what he would be like in bed. But my dream wasn’t like that. It wasn’t as sexual as I thought the real thing was. I was crying about deceiving Tom—about breaking his heart. He was tender with me. Did all of what I thought actually happen? Or was I just filling in blanks? “Thomas, I don’t think I remember it the way it actually happened.”

“What do you think happened that night?”

“I remember all the stuff in your office… That’s the same. But in my dream, when you found me by the window, you were so soft and understanding. You forgave me. And I couldn’t stop crying.” Tom looked absolutely puzzled.

“How is that different than what you think happened?”

“I remember you singing to Mariah Carey, but it was sexier—everything was sexier. You weren’t sad, and I wasn’t crying. You kissed me hard enough to draw blood. You said you were glad you finally had me where you wanted me. It only stopped being arousing when you touched my leg.”

We sat in silence for what felt like years. Tom rubbed his hand in circles on my back as I slowly stopped crying and composed myself.

“Have you ever heard of cognitive dissonance?”

“What’s that?”

“It’s this theory in psychology about what happens when you get new information that doesn’t add up with what you already know. It's often tied to trauma... I think that’s sort of happening to you.”

“But why?”

“I don’t know. I’m guessing it’s because the reality of what was happening was too stressful to handle, so you created a new reality to make sense of everything.” He looked down at me with so much love in his eyes that I almost started crying again. I couldn't believe this man loved me so much that he would forgive me for breaking his heart and almost killing his company. “You were pretty delirious from how much blood you lost. And you were absolutely hysterical. I didn't think you would ever stop crying.”

“I’m a mess,” I sniffle-laughed. He squeezed my shoulders. “Did I actually shoot someone in the parking garage like a badass, though?” Tom laughed out loud.

“Yes, little dove. You did ‘shoot someone like a badass.’”

“Cool.” I sat up in front of him, careful not to hurt my leg. “Now that you’re up, can you make some badass French toast?”

“Well, I _guess_ since I’m already awake.” We climbed out of bed, and Tom held me up to support my leg as we padded to the kitchen. “Anything for you, my badass.”


	11. Chapter 11

I was sprawled out on the sofa, the side of my face buried in a pillow as I flicked through TV channels. Tom was cooking something that smelled absolutely divine, and I had just gotten out of the shower after the most perfect arm and core workout. I was in some comfy lounging clothes—Tom’s sweatshirt and some black yoga pants—and the fireplace spread warmth over me. I was as content as a house cat.

I heard Tom pad in from the kitchen with plates of food. He set them down on the coffee table and went back into the kitchen for drinks. I lifted my head to see what he had made.

“Nachos?” I asked. He made an affirmative noise as he walked back into the living room. Tom set down his glass of whiskey and my virgin piña colada—only virgin due to the pain meds.

“Loaded nachos.” He pinched my ass as he knelt next to me.

“Hey!” I laughed.

“Just pinching you to make sure I'm not dreaming up this luscious view.”

“That's not how it works.” I eyed him coyly. “And if you wanted to touch my ass, you could've just asked me, sweetheart.”

“Tempting, little dove. Very tempting.”

“You know what else is tempting?” I asked, sliding down next to him carefully. “These nachos.” I leaned over and stole one of his chips.

“Excuse me, darling, but those are mine,” Tom said matter-of-factly.

“And this—” I pointed to my butt. “is _my_ ass.”

“Fair enough.” I sat a little taller and ate his chip. Tom watched me chew.

“Wha-mp?” I asked, mouth full of food.

“Nothing.” He grinned. “You’re just beautiful.” I swallowed and turned away blushing.

“Thank you.” He snaked his hand into my hair and turned my head to look at him before crashing his lips to mine. I relaxed and leaned into him, enjoying the feel of his tongue exploring my mouth. His hand massaged the back of my neck. I could feel my arousal stir inside me. He hadn't laid claim to my lips like this since we had make-up sex. I pulled us apart to breathe.

“You taste like jalapeños,” Tom chuckled and went back in for it. I couldn't help from moaning into him. Tom reached his other hand up underneath my sweatshirt and squeezed my breast. I palmed him through his sweatpants.

The doorbell rang and I jumped, pulling away from him. Tom groaned and stood with an eyeroll, less alarmed than I thought he would be. He reached under the coffee table for a hidden gun.

“If it’s not important… This isn't over, little dove,” he growled, motioning between us with the gun. A shiver ricocheted down my spine as a grin crept across my face. I turned around and watched him disappear into the hallway. I was ready to duck down at any moment in case of an unwanted visitor.

Then I heard Tom chuckle heartily from the foyer, and I relaxed a little. _Who could be at the door that's making Tom laugh like that?_

And in he walked with Sir Ben Kingsley.

“Hello, (y/n).” I struggled to stand up to greet him properly.

“Ben!” Tom helped me to my feet. “What a surprise!”

“I hope I'm not interrupting,” he said, peeking over my shoulder at the nachos. “How's your leg, by the way?”

“Well, it's a leg.” I joked. “But I have the best pretend doctor in the country looking after me.” Tom pulled me into his side.

“I have some business to attend to with Thomas about the other night.”

“Oh? Regarding what?” I asked.

“Well, it's not something to concern yourself with.” I seethed internally at his insinuation that I was out of the loop—just Tom’s girlfriend and not an assassin running away from her employer—and my smile faded just slightly. Tom noticed and squeezed my hand. “I was hoping I could steal him away to his office for a bit.”

“Of course,” I said with a brighter smile. I really hated playing the part of a clueless girl, but I _was_ a great actress, and the less people who knew about me, the better.

“Excellent. Shall we, my boy?” Tom nodded and kissed the top of my head before leading Ben away. He turned and winked with a devilish grin as he disappeared down the hall. My stomach flipped.

“Well, at least I have you,” I sighed, picking up a nacho chip.

Then an idea sparked. I tiptoed toward Tom’s office. Thankfully, the door was cracked open so I could hear them, and I sat myself down next to the wall with my knees curled into my chest.

“I've contacted my sources, and it seems that Ms. Say is after your girl,” Ben explained.

“I know.”

“And you do know that this is the same woman who tried to bring us down before?”

“Yeah.”

“So, what does (y/n) have to do with her? Leverage? Or is it something else?”

“I guess she knows about our relationship and wants to use that to fuck me over.” There was a silence.

“You know, you've never been a good liar,” Ben mused.

“I’m a great liar.”

“ _Thomas_.”

Tom sighed. “(Y/n) used to work for her.”

“You're dating a spy? Thomas—”

“I don't need your condescending lecture, Ben,” he sighed again. “She's not a spy for her anymore. She went rogue.”

“So, what's to stop her from turning on you?”

“I don't know,” he snorted. “I really don't. But I trust her.” There was another silence. “Ben… you didn't see her face.”

“I've seen her face a few times.”

“No, you didn't see it the night I found out about her. She was so broken, Ben. She was sent to steal my clientele and finance information by seducing me. But I caught her before she got away with it, and seeing the fear in her eyes… struck me. She's so afraid of Ms. Say, Ben. She was so afraid of what could happen to her.”

“How do you know she wasn't acting? She's been doing a pretty convincing job of playing dumb.” I scowled at that, even though it was true.

“She couldn't shoot me. She raised her gun to me, but her hands shook so violently.” Someone shuffled. “I love her. She says she loves me, too, and I believe her.” Tears sprang into my eyes as I listened to him defend me more. If I hadn't believed it before, I sure as hell believed that he loved me after hearing that.

“It sounds like you've found something really special, my boy. Unconventional, but special.”

“God, Ben. I'd do anything for her if she asked. I've never felt like this before.”

“Then it’s best you get ready to fight for her. Ms. Say won't stop looking for (y/n) until one of them dies.”

“I know. That's why I have to get to her first.”

An unexpected sniffle-gasp broke through my chest, and then there was silence. I sat still with wide, watery eyes, trying to stay as quiet as I could.

The door opened with a creak, and I was met with Ben standing there before me.

“Little dove, what are you doing curled up like that?” Tom asked as he moved toward the door. “You'll pull out your stitches.” Ben leaned down and hoisted me up with a grunt.

“I would never turn against you,” I whispered.

“Shh…” He scooped me into his arms. “I know.”

“I love you.”

“I love _you_.”

Ben put his hand on Tom’s shoulder and squeezed.

“I’ll do everything I can to help.” I looked up at him.

“Thank you, Ben.” He smiled down at me.

“It’s nothing. Besides, the enemy of my enemy is my friend, no?” Tom and I laughed. “And I guess the lover of my surrogate-son is my daughter, too.”

“Don’t make it weird,” I joked. Ben reached into his coat pocket and pulled out an envelope filled with information.

“See to it that you use this.” He patted Thomas on the shoulder and kissed my cheek before heading out of the office and out of the house. “Oh, and one more thing,” he called from the foyer. “I'll be expecting an invitation to the wedding.” Tom took my hand and led me back to the living room.

“Alone at last,” I announced. Tom returned to his spot in front of the couch.

“Our poor nachos have gone cold,” he said with an adorable pout. I sat down in Tom’s lap with my drink.

“Well, the ones I ate were delicious.” I stole a chip from his plate and brought it to his lips. He graciously accepted the whole thing at once.

“Mm,” he hummed as he chewed the soggy chip. “Is that right?”

“Of course, Thomas.” I cupped his jaw with my hand and kissed his cheek. We sat in content silence as we finished our dinner, just enjoying each other’s company. Tom sipped his whiskey.

“Now, where were we?” He asked before stealing my lips in another flaming kiss.


	12. Chapter 12

“Little dove,” Tom called from the bedroom. “Would you like to have some fun?” I smirked as the bristles of my toothbrush tickled my gums.

“Wha hype uh fum?” I giggled at how ridiculous I sounded. Tom popped his head through the doorway.

“Come with me on this job.” His woodsy cologne invaded my senses. I spat out my minty toothpaste and rinsed my mouth, Tom graciously handing me the towel from the hook to dry my face. “I'd love to have you come and rile up my supplier. I want to make him squirm.”

“But I'm already comfy,” I play-whined, watching his reflection. His arms snaked around my waist.

“But I want to dress you up like a sexy, commanding businesswoman,” he whined back with a kiss to my jaw. He glanced up at me in the mirror with an innocent-looking quirk of his eyebrow.

“Are you saying I'm not sexy the rest of the time?” I inquired with a smirk. He snickered and kissed my cheek, straightening up like the formidable-but-loving man he was and eyeing me with an incredulous expression.

“Of course you are, little dove.” My hand reached back for his and squeezed. “Please? Do I have to beg on my knees?”

“Mm. That would be a sight.” I turned around and watched with wide, bemused eyes as he knelt before me.

“Please?” A shiver crawled up my spine.

“You look good on your knees, Thomas.” In a split-second, my vibe changed from being a comfy, sleepy girlfriend to a confident CEO subtly trying to seduce her intern—and he knew it. His expression faltered slightly before turning into one of shy lust. He sure knew how to read my cues. “Big, bad criminal isn't so big and bad anymore,” I whispered, stroking his cheek with my knuckles. Tom nuzzled into my touch.

“I'll do anything… _Mistress…”_

“Oh god, no.” I stepped back with a grin, breaking the scenario. “You ruined it.”

“Damn.”

I giggled at him. “But… I mean, if you _insist_ …” I was having too much fun; there was no way I was going to just end it there. “I do know some way you could convince me to go with you.” His eyes lit up again.

“What is it?”

“ _Eat me_ , Thomas.” I slipped out of my silky lingerie bottoms and hopped onto the counter, carefully spreading my legs for him. I had never seen Tom’s eyes grow so dark so quickly. “Put that tongue of yours to good use.”

“Of course, _miss._ ”

 _“Better_.”

He scooted toward me and kissed up my thighs. I was already wet for him, since his cologne pretty much worked as an aphrodisiac—not to mention how good he looked in his beautiful, bespoke business suit.

“We don't have all day, so you better make quick work of your case,” I told him. “Dazzle me, pretty boy.” And dazzle he did—as soon as I said it.

Tom lapped at my folds with his warm tongue. I reached behind me and gripped the edge of the counter.

“Good God, Thomas,” I gasped, trying to spread my legs even wider. He chuckled and sent delicious vibrations through me. His tongue swirled around in rhythmic circles on my clit. He gripped my legs, digging his nails into my flesh—but still careful to avoid my injuries.

It hadn't even been twenty seconds before warmth surged throughout my entire being; sweat beaded on my forehead. I couldn't possibly already be so close. Then he thrust his tongue into me, and I jolted forward. I was absolutely putty in his hands.

“Yes, baby, keep doing that!” I curled my fingers into his hair, pressing his face closer to my core. “Thomas, Thomas… yes…” My head lulled back on my shoulders.

He chuckled again, spurring me into orgasm. I whimpered and keened for him as I convulsed around his tongue. He continued to lap at me until I fell back to Earth from my high.

“Now,” I sighed and composed myself after hopping off the counter. I grabbed the hand towel and delicately cleaned his face. “Dress me.” Tom looked like a delighted schoolboy.

“Yes, miss,” he said, standing.

He led me back into the bedroom and sat me on the bed while he searched in his wardrobe for the clothes he wanted. I waited patiently for him to turn back to me. He finally did after he pulled out a sleek, skin-tight, knee-length, long-sleeved black dress. My jaw dropped.

“I had been hoping you'd agree to this.”

“I am gonna look _so_ badass.” I stood eagerly and let Tom help me put the dress on. He smoothed his hands down my back before pulling the zipper up.

“Simply divine, miss.” He pressed a kiss to the top of my head. “Oh, I do have one more surprise.” He returned to the wardrobe and pulled out a shoebox. My heart stopped when I read the label on the side.

“ _Louboutin_? Are you crazy?” He just smiled down at me as he lifted the lid to reveal a shiny, black pair of Bianca pumps, complete with the signature red sole.

As if this man didn't surprise me enough already.

“Thomas, you are too generous.”

“Anything for you, little dove.” He took my hand and kept me stable as I stepped into my new shoes. I cleared my throat before looking up at him with wide, doe eyes.

“Thank you… _sir_.” Something inside Tom—or maybe _outside_ —twitched as I swapped our roles, opting to act as Tom’s intern this time.

“What a delightful little switch you are.” He kissed my temple.

“How could I ever thank you?” God, he aroused me like no other.

“I'd love if you went domme more often. Except for right now.” He tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “Right now, you're my little toy.” I giggled and pulled him down to the bed in a smoldering kiss.

 

* * *

 

After our quickie, Tom fixed me up. He helped apply my makeup, perfecting my matte crimson lips. I loosely curled my hair and fixed my dress into place before he escorted me to the Jaguar.

He told me that he wanted me to act as my domme-self when the meeting went down, as to effectively intimidate his supplier. I was to stay silent until spoken to while keeping a confident and commanding façade.

All the details were accounted for as we pulled into a parking garage and parked on the third floor down. There was only one other car, and it still had its headlights on. Two men stood before the vehicle, eclipsed by the light.

Tom opened the glove box and pulled out his Glock, stuffing it into the back of his pants. He turned toward me with an anxious smile.

“Ready?”

“As I'll ever hope to be,” I said shakily before composing myself. He took my hand in his, gently caressing his thumb over my knuckles.

“You're a great actress. You can do this.”

“No one better die,” I told him. “Despite my spy-assassin upbringing, I don't fancy killing when unnecessary.” Tom just smiled slightly, knowing he couldn't promise me that.

“I'll get your door, little dove.” He kissed my cheek, and when he pulled back and looked away, it was like I was in the car with an entirely different man. His gaze was hard and calculating as he pushed open his door.

I stayed seated and waited for Tom to come around to the side and open my door. He offered me his hand with a stoic look on his face, and I snuck a quick wink at him as I rose from the Jag. I dropped his hand and clasped mine together in front of me as I walked toward the others. Tom followed only a step behind.

“Gentlemen,” he greeted, his voice nothing more than a growl.

“Who's this pretty thing? She here to sweeten the deal?” one of them asked. Tom turned his head to look at me, as if he forgot I was even there, but I kept my gaze straight ahead at them.

“No,” he replied, his tone rigid and final. He turned back toward them. “I suppose your boss couldn't make it. Or is he just hiding?” There was a click of another car door opening. A tall, formidable, brick-wall-of-a man exited the vehicle behind them. He couldn't be that much older than Tom. His wavy, auburn hair was pulled back into a bun; his suit almost as fine tailored as Tom’s.

“I had to make sure you were going to behave, Mr. Hiddleston.” _American accent._

“Of course.” I watched him as his eyes raked over my body, and I had to stave off a shiver and the urge to cross my arms over my chest.

“Who's this? Trying to sweeten the deal?” Tom rolled his eyes at being asked the same question twice.

“No.”

“Shame. She is delicious.” He licked his lips. “Whadda I call you, doll face?”

I scoffed at his little pet name. “Not that.” There was a beat and his smirk turned to a frown. “Megara.” Tom told me to lie about any personal information.

“ _Megara_? Like the Disney princess?”

“She's not a princess; she’s a goddess. And yes, like her,” I told him, matter-of-factly.

“She's feisty. I like her,” he said to Tom. “Name fits well, too.”

“Well, now that you've made my client’s acquaintance,” Tom interjected, annoyed. “Shall we get on with it? I'd like to see the product.”

“Certainly, Mr. Hiddleston.” He snapped his fingers, and the two men circled to the back of the car and produced four duffel bags. “Come now, the man hasn't got all day,” he urged them. “Especially not with such a beautiful woman beside him.” I rolled my eyes and put my hand on my hip, even though I wanted nothing more than for Tom to fuck me into next Tuesday. Or for _me_ to fuck _him_ into next Tuesday.

The duffels were brought before the man, and Tom stepped up to the three of them while I stayed put. He eyed them and they immediately unzipped all four duffels. From my position, I couldn't see what was inside.

“Miss Megara,” Tom called without turning toward me. “Would you like to come inspect your purchase?” I stepped forward and barely held in a gasp at the thousands of tiny, shimmering diamonds inside the bags. I looked up at Tom, and he nodded. I plucked one from the bag and brought it up to my face, holding my chin high as if to assert myself as an expert. It glistened in the dim light of the garage as I turned it carefully between my fingers.

“These will do,” I declared, flicking it carelessly back into the pile. The men zipped the bags back up. “Thomas, my payment,” I requested, watching the supplier and his men.

“Certainly.” He retreated to the Jaguar and popped the trunk, pulled out a suitcase full of cash, and then returned to his spot next to me. The supplier made a whipping noise and hand motion.

“Never thought I'd see the day where someone told you what to do, Mr. Hiddleston,” he chuckled. “Especially not a woman.”

“Yes, well,” I began with an intake of breath, “I'm full of surprises.”

“Oh, I bet you are. Lucky for you, so am I.” Suddenly, his two men dropped the bags and grabbed me, turning me to face an unfazed Tom. My confidence had gone to my head so much that I was completely calm. Calm enough to chuckle. Calm enough to be amused.

“You really shouldn't have done that,” I told him. He looked between Tom and I, completely baffled at how unresponsive we were. “Boys,” I called out, almost in a singsong.

It took a moment for the three men to realize they had red snipers’ dots littering them. I watched as Tom nonchalantly pulled his gun out and pointed it forward. The tall man’s face blanched instantly. I felt a surge of power run through me. _I guess I could get used to this._

“Release me.” They did. I straightened my dress and sauntered back to Tom's side. “I believe those are mine.” I eyed the bags. “Won't you put them in the car for me?” I batted my eyelashes at the two meat-heads. They complied, taking the bags to the Jaguar and putting them in the trunk.

“Ah-ah,” Tom called without looking behind him. Pull those guns out of your holsters, and they’ll blow your brains out.” They listened and returned to their original places.

“Well.” I clasped my hands together. “It was quite the pleasure,” I told them, stepping toward the supplier and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Oh, and I am a woman of my word.” I motioned to Tom and he threw the suitcase to the ground next to me. “Enjoy.” I slid it toward them with my foot.

As I moved back, man-bun gripped my arms and spun me around again. I tsked.

“She warned you,” Tom sighed and held up two fingers. Following his motion, there were two thuds on either side of me. The man’s grip relaxed, and I waltzed away from him and back to Tom, taking his arm.

“You were sort of right, though. _I_ don't have all day.” I grabbed Tom’s jaw and pulled him into a hard kiss. His arm that was still aimed at the supplier never faltered, but I could tell he was taken off guard. After I released him, I turned back toward our guest and held my hand up to the side of my mouth, feigning a gleeful whisper. “I'm gonna fuck him into next Tuesday.” I pulled Tom back to the car by his tie, something he definitely hadn't been expecting. “Have fun with your cash!” I called back. “Buy yourself something nice.”

 

* * *

 

Tom could barely contain himself as we burst through the elevator doors—he almost hadn’t even made it to the front step of the building. His lips were hard and demanding against mine. We were a tangled mess of limbs and gropes and moans, stumbling down the hallway to my apartment.

“God, that was so fucking hot,” he muttered into my mouth. He pushed me back against my door. “I could have fucked you in front of him.”

“Thomas, my… my keys…” I groaned.

“You did such a good job, little dove,” he breathed, kissing down my neck. “Such a good job.”

“Thom—ah, ah!” He ground his thigh against my bare sex.

“I brought you along to make him squirm, but _I_ was the one squirming, my darling.” He bent his head down to suck on my neck, but I pushed him away with all of my force. He looked absolutely bewildered.

“Keys,” I panted. “ _Now._ ” Tom stood for a beat before reaching into his trouser pocket for his key ring. “Open it and go sit on the bed patiently for me. Do _not_ undress yourself.” Tom fumbled with the keys as he rushed to unlock my door.

After I heard the bedroom door close, I flailed around, mouthing a silent, “where the fuck did I get that from?!” It was a shock to me that I could even pretend to be that confident and demanding. I hadn't expected to act that way in the garage, but something just came over me. This was all so new and exhilarating.

I tiptoed to the kitchen and poured myself a glass of water to calm my jittery nerves.

The dominance play was fun, but what if Tom never looked at me as his “little dove” again? I liked being my shy and quiet self— _it's who I am_ —but what could I do if Tom only wanted what he had just seen in the parking garage after this?

As I downed the last of my water, I snuffed out my rampaging thoughts for later, after we had some more fun. Tom would understand and listen. He was good at that.

Maybe all of the acting was going to my head, but right then I was in the mood to tie him up and watch him wriggle around like a worm beneath me.

Before I entered the bedroom, I went into my hall closet and found several pairs of old stockings that I could use as ties. _This is going to be interesting_. I stuffed them into my bra before opening the door with a tantalizing slowness.

Tom sat on the end of the bed with his legs spread wide—as per usual—with a cool expression on his face. I smirked and closed the door behind me.

“Looks like you were a good boy.” I sauntered around my bedroom, nonchalantly picking up some of my things and examining them. I ran a finger over my dresser, leaving a line in the dust, then rubbing my fingertips together to get rid of the residue. Tom’s smug grin faltered.

“I've created a monster,” he joked.

“I thought this was what you wanted.”

“It is, but—”

“You'd rather be in control right now?” He nodded carefully. “But it's my turn,” I whined playfully, breaking the illusion. Tom snorted.

“Round two is mine,” he settled. I nodded before we returned to our foreplay.

“Like I said, it looks like you've been a good boy.” I straddled his wide legs and pulled at his tie.

“Yes, miss.” My nostrils flared slightly in delight at his address. I pressed a chaste kiss to his lips while unfastening the button on his suit jacket.

“Good. Because I love opening presents.” I loosened and removed his tie, running my thumbs over the silk. “Blindfold? Or no? I'll let you decide.” I didn't think Tom's pupils could grow any larger. They darkened his eyes with lust.

“No blindfold, miss.” I tossed it to the side, pressing a kiss to his cheek before rolling my hips to tease him.

“Tell me what you want.” I grazed my lips against his cheek and nipped at his earlobe.

“I want you to fuck me, miss. You were so… alluring in the car park. Please?”

“Well, since you asked so nicely…” I stalked him backward on the bed, pulling the stockings from my bra. “I’ll see what I can do.”


	13. Chapter 13

“Are you sure?” I woke to Tom’s muffled voice out in the living room. “Who’s your source?” I stretched in bed and rolled over onto my side, sighing happily as I checked the time. _11:43_ _AM_.

Last night wore me out like nothing else. It was so much fun to have control over Tom, but it was even better once we switched. I think he still preferred to dominate—no matter what he said—because he was fantastic during our second round.

“You're absolutely positive? Because I have _very_ reliable sources that say otherwise,” I heard him ask again. I sat up and pulled the duvet over my chest right as Tom walked into the bedroom. “Oh, you're awake,” he greeted, hanging up his call. He grinned as I shifted to pull the blanket closer to myself.

“I thought we would at least get through breakfast without having to deal with work things.” Tom flopped down on the mattress.

“Well, we don't have to deal with them right now,” he said, looking up at me from my knees. “I’ll make you breakfast.” I reached down and pushed back his disheveled curls.

“I doubt anything in my fridge is good anymore.”

It had been ages since I last slept in my apartment. I'm surprised Tom hadn't mentioned anything about breaking my lease so I could move in with him completely. I guess it was a good thing, though, so I could always have an alibi. And a back up. Just in case.

Except… I _didn't_ have a lease. The apartment was a gift. From Ms. Say.

Tom's expression hardened in response to my now anxious one.

“Little dove, what's the matter?” I swiped his phone and began typing a note.

“Nothing, sweetheart,” I tried to sound as normal as possible. My fingers flew across the keyboard; _there are bugs. Apartment owned by Say. Act normal._

I rolled next to him, forgetting the duvet.

“I love you,” I said, looking up at him and pushing the phone back into his hands.

“I love you, too.” He kissed my cheek and hauled himself up from the bed to get dressed while he read the note.

He pulled open every dresser drawer and searched for any microphones. I stood and grabbed my frequency jammer “makeup kit”—something I thought only existed in movies until I actually became a spy—and turned it on. We heard small pops all around the room.

“That should do it.”

“Only for a short time.”

“Enough for us to get dressed and pack up,” I told him, rushing to put on some fresh clothing. “Hey, what are those diamonds for anyway?” Tom turned toward me with a smug look.

“Well, most of them are going to buyers, but I'm going to save some for a secret project.”

“Oh?” I smiled. He opened an emergency travel bag—he always kept one in the Jag, apparently—and pulled on some boxers.

“It's special. You'll love it.”

 _It's not a ring, is it?_ I thought to myself, but he seemed to be able to read my thoughts.

“You'll just have to wait and see.”

“Come on,” I whined. “Don’t do me like that, Tom!”

“And how would you rather I ‘do you,’ little dove? Maybe the way I did last night?” I shivered.

“I didn’t mean it like that, and you know it.”

“I know, I just like watching you squirm.” His lips curled into a devilish smirk.

“As much as I love your flirty ways, we do need to hurry.”

“I thought you said we had enough time,” he mocked.

“Not for you to be a smart ass,” I laughed.

We rushed to pack up all we could. I opened my wall safe behind one of the paintings in the bathroom to grab the rest of my cash and a few personal items. Tom made sure we both had our phones and shoved his gun into the back of his pants on the way out.

“I'm gonna miss all my dresses,” I muttered as we walked nonchalantly toward the elevators, as to not rouse suspicion.

“We’ll get you a whole new closet full of them,” Tom assured.

“You're too good to—”

“(Y/n)!” I turned around to see one of my neighbors peeking out of his door.

“Hi, Robbie.”

“You haven't been home in a while.” He leaned casually against his door. “I was starting to worry.”

“I've been busy.” I shrugged. Robbie gave Tom a once-over.

“Looks like it,” he joked with a smirk. I heard Tom shift behind me. “Always going to fancy parties and business meetings… I expected as much.”

I felt the need to fill the silence before it even happened. “This is my boyfriend, T—”

“Thomas, right? Tom? At least, I think that's what I heard through the wall.” My face instantly heated.

“Yeah, it's Tom,” I heard his cool voice from behind me.

“Glad you finally found someone worthwhile, (y/n),” Robbie laughed. “From the _sounds_ of it, anyway.” I stood there dumbfounded. He gave both Tom and I another once-over. “Enjoy her, mate.”

Robbie slipped back into his apartment. I shivered as I turned back toward Tom. He just glared at the door before wrapping his free hand around my waist and leading me to the elevator.

“I'm sorry about that,” I told him.

“You don't need to be.”

“He just never grew up, really. He's still got a 17-year-old’s brain.” I stepped forward to push the elevator button when a bullet zipped past my head and into the wall. I stared ahead for a few seconds, trying to process what was going on.

“Get behind me!” Tom shouted, yanking me into place. I couldn't help but gasp, the gravity of what just happened hitting me with full force. I turned and peeked just slightly around Tom to see Robbie in the middle of the hall with a gun; Tom’s arm was extended, ready to fire back with his own.

My breathing finally settled as the elevator dinged.

“Get in,” Tom whispered.

“Do it, and I'll kill him,” Robbie countered.

“Listen to me, little dove.”

“I'll blow his fucking brains out if you move an inch!”

I stood stock still as I weighed the situation. _Why won't Tom just shoot him already?!_

“Get in before the doors close.”

“I’m not fuckin’ bluff—” _Bang!_

“Let's go.” My heart raced as Tom pulled me into the elevator.

“What the hell?! Why does this keep fucking happening?”

“It’s fine, (y/n), I promise.” He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me into his chest, but I pushed him away.

“My neighbor just tried to fucking kill me! It’s not _fine_.” I smashed the button for the underground garage.

“We’re gonna get out of here and go home. It’ll be alright, darling. We’ll get home safe, and then I’ll make us breakfast.”

“Will it ever be over? Even if we get rid of Say, there will always be Robbies.”

“I will end it. Even if it means I have to end every last one of them.”

“Dibs on her.”

Tom smiled. “She’s all yours.” The elevator dinged and we exited, more cautious after the hallway debacle.

“Alright, let’s go. I’m fucking ready.”

“Easy, darling. I have to finish your surprise first.”

“Well, hurry it up! I’m itching to take her out.”

“Roger that.”

He took my hand in his and led me to the car, opening the door for me, as always. Once he got in the car, I turned to him and pressed a kiss to his temple.

“Thank you for always saving me. I try not to be this much of a damsel in distress, but I really appreciate it.”

“Of course, little dove. You never have to thank me for that. Or anything.”

Tom started the car, and we drove back home in contented silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! 
> 
> I know this chapter is a lot shorter than the last one, but finals are next week and I'm trying really hard to balance that out with my writing. I'm also going through some rough stuff at the moment, but I promise I'm gonna keep trying to update this as frequently as I can. 
> 
> Thank you all for the lovely comments and kudos!


	14. Chapter 14

_ On our third date, I knew I was in too deep. Our previous date left me longing to kiss him, and even though I knew it would seal my fate and bind my heart to him, I couldn't help myself. He had me under his charming spell, and I was absolutely helpless.  _

_ “Little dove, you are exquisite,” he breathed. I couldn't stop watching his lips.  _

_ “You're the exquisite one.” Our hot chocolate sat on the coffee table in his apartment's living room, cold and forgotten. He pulled my legs up over his lap and held me tight. _

_ “The gown on the floor of my bedroom says otherwise.” He smirked at me. _

_ “Oh, that old thing? Costed much less than your rent does, I’m sure.” I chuckled, running my knuckles across his collarbones. “Thanks for the clothes, by the way.” He rubbed my flannel-covered thigh. _

_ “Of course. Don’t think I’d just let you run around here naked, do you?” _

_ “I bet you’d like that.” My gaze flickered between his warm eyes and his soft lips. He leaned closer, after noticing my cue.  _

_ “I bet I would…” he whispered, practically against my lips, his hot breath deepening the red in my flushed cheeks.  _

_ Then the doorbell rang. Tom rolled his eyes and moved to get up. I squeezed his thigh. “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. I’ll get it.” I hopped off of him and almost tripped over the coffee table on my way to the door. I unlocked it and greeted the delivery woman.  _

_ “You paid with card, yeah?” she asked. _

_ “Yes—oh!” I turned back to Tom. “Do you have cash for tip?” _

_ “I put it on the card, little dove,” he called from the sofa. I smiled and turned around to take the food from and thank the woman.  _

_ “Hope you're hungry!” I singsonged on the way back to him.  _

_ “Absolutely famished,” he chuckled, pulling me down to his lap again.  _

_ “I haven't had curry in a while.” _

_ “I think the last time I had it was the night after we first met.” I opened the brown paper bag and pulled out the boxes of food. “It smells  so good.” _

_ “You smell even better, mister.” _

_ “Mm. Keep talking like that. I love a good ego boost.” We giggled and turned on the television to have some background noise.  _

_ I slid down to the floor, and Tom followed suit. We shared our food with each other and talked about how our days were. It was so hard not to just come clean and just tell him what I did for a living. I had to make up some bullshit story about working for my father’s company and how tiring it was to run around in heels all day, only to be shipped off to a gala and be hounded by journalists all night. It was starting to get harder to keep all my facts straight, but I tried to just brush it off to him as being tired.  _

_ It was more interesting to hear Tom tell me about himself. He went on about how some of his work clients were giving him trouble about the shipments, but that he handled it with ease—thanks to his assistants. He also told me he wanted to show me his office space and asked me to lunch the next day. I obviously accepted, not only because I could gain intel, but because it gave me an excuse to be around him longer.  _

_ It was at that point in the relationship where I almost couldn't keep myself from slipping “I love you” into our conversations. Even though this was only our third date, we had known each other for months, and it ate away at me to hold back. I did have strong feelings for him, that much was true; but there would always be my boss’s nagging voice in the back of my head, and that's what kept me from telling him.  _

_ “This is really spicy,” I coughed. Tom soothed my back with his hand.  _

_ “You're slowing down. Are you finished? Or is it  _ too _ spicy for you?” _

_ “I'm not that big of a wimp…” _

_ “Do you want the rest of mine? I'll trade.” _

_ “Would you?” I asked with a meek smile. He nodded and swapped boxes with me. “Thank you, sweetheart.” _

_ “My pleasure, little dove.” I nestled into his shoulder as we finished our meals, watching old sitcoms and enjoying each other’s company. _

 

* * *

 

After reminiscing over some coffee, I had nothing left to occupy me. Tom went out to run errands and left me at home to be safe, so I decided to clean the house out of sheer boredom. I figured if I couldn't cook, I didn't want to just freeload off of Tom—no matter how many times he insisted—so I shrugged off cleaning as repayment. Plus, it gave me something to do until he came home. 

Since his house was up to date with the latest gadgets, there were speakers all throughout the house that connected to the sound system. I decided to put on an early 2000’s playlist and jammed to all of my favorite tunes while I danced my way around the house. 

I was halfway through with the living room when Christina Aguilera’s “Come On Over Baby” started playing. I smiled as I dusted the mantle under the TV. 

“Come on over, come on over, baby,” I murmured along. The dust floated through the air and filtered into the sunlight shining through the window. “Hey, boy, don’t cha know? I got something goin’ on.” 

The music was infectious, carrying me around the room effortlessly. My confidence grew as the song continued, and I started singing louder, trying my best—and failing—to mimic Christina’s voice. 

“Said listen to me!” I used the duster as a microphone. “All I want is you! Come over here, baby! All I want is you! You know you make me go crazy. All I want is you!”

I danced my way through dusting, singing along as I went. Eventually, I moved to the foyer and dusted the side tables, swaying my hips to the beat. 

“You. Give. Me. What a girl feels—what a girl likes—what a girl needs—what a girl waaaants!” The second to last chorus played and I danced around like an idiot. I belted the lyrics, my dusting long forgotten.

“Now, baby, don't be shy. You better cross the line. I'm gonna love you right ‘cause all I want is you!” I threw my fist with the duster in it above my head as the song ended.

Slow applause echoed through the hall, and I jumped at least three feet in front of me.

“You scared me!”

“That was magnificent, darling,” Tom chuckled. I’d be embarrassed—and terrified—if it were anyone else. 

I set down the duster and ran to him, leaping into his arms. “I missed you, asshole.”

“I've only been gone for a few hours.”

“Doesn't mean I can't miss you.” I lowered myself to the floor and pecked his cheek. I heard rustling from behind him. “What's that?” I asked, peering over his shoulder.

“A surprise.”

“Is it  _ the _ surprise?”

“Close your eyes, little dove,” he chuckled. I hid my face in my hands with a giggle as Tom guided me into the living room. 

He sat me down on the sofa and stood before me. I heard a zipper and then crumpling.

“Okay, open your eyes.” 

“Oh my god,” I gasped, hands flying to my mouth. Tom stood before me holding up a gorgeous black evening gown, covered in the tiny diamonds from the dealer. “Oh my god.” He beamed at me and motioned for me to come inspect it. I was absolutely speechless. 

“Try it on.” I nodded and immediately started to strip. Tom watched with a hungry gaze as I pulled off my sweats and tank top. He unzipped the gown and helped me step into it. His fingers grazed my spine and sent shivers surging through my body as he re-zipped it. “Go get your shoes.” I did as he said and all but ran to the bedroom to find my Louboutins, holding the front of my dress up so I didn't trip. I slipped into the shoes and gasped at myself in the mirror. 

I wanted to cry. I had never felt so beautiful in my life. The dress fit perfectly, hugging me in all the right places. The tulle-covered chiffon skirt flowed to the ground so elegantly, while the top modestly accentuated my cleavage. It was a modern princess gown. I looked like I belonged in a fairytale. 

“Oh, little dove…” Tom breathed, leaning against the door as he closed it behind him. “You look… utterly breathtaking.” I watched his reflection as he stepped closer to me, wonder in his bright blue eyes. “It looks better than I ever could have imagined.”

“Tom, this is absolutely _too_ stunning. How did you even manage to get this?” He wrapped his arms around me from behind. 

“I have connections to the fashion world.”

“Who designed this?” A lump caught in my throat. I’d never pictured the day I would wear a designer ball gown made especially for me. 

“I don't think you'd believe me if I told you.” He smirked at me. 

“Who!” I insisted. Tom chuckled as he reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a note. I eyed him incredulously.

 

_ “(Y/n).  _

_ Mr. Hiddleston has informed me that he and yourself will be in attendance at the Met Gala in New York. When he approached me with your commission, I accepted wholeheartedly, as an event like the Met Gala is one of prestige and great publicity. I'm sure it will look gorgeous on the red carpet. Wear it with confidence and represent me well. _

_ Yours, _

_ Valentino” _

 

I couldn't believe it. Valentino. 

“This has to be fake.”

“It's very much real, my darling.” He kissed the side of my neck as I held the note in trembling fingers. 

“Thomas, this is too much. Why did you go through all this trouble for me?”

“Because I love you, (y/n).” I turned to face him.

“We’re… going to the Met Gala?”

“We are.” Tom touched his forehead to mine. “Because I want us to have a good night out for once. And I want to show you off... And I've received information that your employer may be in the city around the time of the gala, but that's beside the point.” He kissed my nose. “I want the world to know that you are mine, and I am yours.”

“Tommy… This is wonderful.” I felt a tear roll down my face. “Thank you so much.”

“Don't cry, little dove.” He wiped my cheek with his thumb. “I love spoiling you.”

I sniffle-laughed, “I know. I'm not crying, I swear. I'm just so surprised and happy.” He pulled me into his arms and nuzzled his nose into my hair. 

“We need to start packing,” he chuckled, squeezing me tight. “We’ll be in New York for a few months. The Gala isn't until May.”

“What I  _ need _ to do is thank you,” I replied, already reaching behind me to unzip the dress. Tom took a step back and watched in awe as I stripped for him. The gown crumpled to the floor, but I picked it up and put it on a hanger in the closet, making sure to give Tom a good view of my ass as I did so. “How can I ever repay you, Thomas?” I asked, stepping out of my Louboutins and setting them next to the armoire. He visibly shivered with delight. I ran my fingers down his chest and tugged at the hem of his shirt. “Actually, I  _ may _ have an idea.” I stripped the v-neck off him and unclasped his jeans, falling to my knees as I pulled them down. My fingertips grazed his half-hard cock through his underwear. “You're so good to me, _sir_ …” He started breathing heavier, meeting my eyes with his own lustful gaze. I reached for the waistband of his underwear and slipped them off, his erection bursting free from its confines.

“Little dove, look at what you're doing to me,” he breathed.

“I'll just have to take care of that then. It won't be a problem.” I kissed the tip before tracing it with my tongue. Tom let out a strangled growl as I took him into my mouth. I sucked lightly on the tip and worked my way to the base while running my hands over his thighs. 

“Yes,” he panted. “Yes, (y/n).” I continued sucking on him like candy, rolling his sensitive balls between my fingers. “Keep going, yes. Just like—ah—that.” He curled his fingers into my hair and guided my head back and forth. I relaxed my neck and let him have all the control, bobbing me along his twitching dick. “Oh, you're so good,” he whimpered, his hips stuttering. I inhaled sharply when he pulled back. He looked at me with lustful adoration in his eyes.

“Are you going to finish yourself off?” I asked with a quirk of my eyebrow. 

“Oh no, sweet girl.” He tugged gently on my hair to get me to stand. “You're going to show me just how grateful you are. He pulled me in for a harsh kiss and fell back with me onto the bed. “Ride me,” he whispered, inching back toward the wall. I crawled along with him, trying to catch his lips with my own. Once his back hit the headboard, I reached for his hand and guided it to my lace panties—the only thing keeping his fingers from relishing in my skin.

“Do you feel how wet I am for you, sir?” I asked sweetly. Tom’s eyes flashed with desire as he answered with a satisfied purr. “Do you wanna unwrap your present?” I ground myself against his hand. “It's just for you.”

“Be a good girl and take them off for me.  _ Slowly _ .” I climbed to my feet on the mattress and slipped my thumbs between the fabric and my hips. I flashed Tom a suggestive look before wiggling out of them and kneeling back onto the mattress. He smirked and reached to the bedside table for a condom and handed it to me. I tossed my panties to the side, and, using my teeth—just like the first time we had sex—I ripped the foil open and rolled it onto his hard length.

“Are you ready for me, sir?”

“Of course, (y/n).” He held his hands out for me and our fingers intertwined as I sank onto him with a startled giggle. “You always make the most intriguing noises.”

“Only for you,” I breathed, rocking back and forth on top of him.

“Yes. Only for me. Otherwise—well—there would be consequences.” I shuddered at that thought. 

Tom thrust up into me as I slammed down onto him. His breath came in shallow pants, and I whined and squealed as he began to overtake me.

“Sing for me, little dove.” He nibbled on the side of my neck, and I obliged with louder moans and grunts as our speed increased. I rolled my hips to meet his. Our rhythm synced up, and it seemed as if Tom was the deepest he had ever been inside me. He craned his neck to suck at one of my nipples, and I threw my head back in pleasure. His little love bites spurred me on, and my cries grew louder and louder. “Are you close?”

“So close…”

“Then come, sweet girl.” He thrust up, sharper this time. “ _ Come _ .”

“Thomas!” I convulsed with pleasure and squeezed myself around Tom as he finished into the condom. With our hands still entwined, he spread his arms, and I collapsed onto his chest. I could feel a thin sheen of sweat over both of our bodies, and I looked forward to the bath we would have following our little escapade. I tilted my head to pepper kisses along his collarbones. “Thank you.”

“Always.” His thumbs grazed mine softly and sweetly. “But we really do need to pack.”

“After dinner.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good news: I finally wrote another chapter!  
> Bad news: I'm going on another hiatus T_T (I know, I JUST got back)
> 
> I'll be leaving to go work at a summer camp in two weeks, and I'll only be around one day a week during the next three months to actually write. I'm going to try and get another update in beforehand, but I won't make any promises.
> 
> I'm so, so, so sorry for the inconvenience because I know how awful it is to have to go back and re-read chapters to remember what happened.
> 
> As always, I'm thankful for all of you who read my little stories, and I love reading your comments (even if I don't get around to replying). Keep being awesome for me!


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As (sort of) promised, here is another chapter for you. It's just some fluff because I love writing it (and also because our lovely couple has had (and will have) a lot coming at them). c;

We had been in New York for about a month. It was nice to finally get out of the house in the woods—even though it's still the most stunning house I've ever been in. Tom pulled some of his criminal empire strings and rented us a place overlooking Times Square. Seeing all the lights from the 30th floor of a building was absolutely breathtaking. On the first night of our stay, I probably stood in front of the window for a good half hour, just staring at all the people below us.

Tom had an office in the city, which was a complete surprise to me—although, most anything he told me was surprising. Some days, he'd bring me to his office with him, both of us dressed in sharp business attire, and I would help him plan our coup d’etat of Ms. Say… among other things.

But recently, I had been staying back in the apartment, curled up with some novels and hot chocolate. The bedroom was smaller than ours at home, but cozy, and the white, down comforter was fluffy beyond belief.

I sat myself on top of the bed in nothing but the old college sweatshirt, my panties, and some white socks to keep my feet warm. It was my go-to lounging outfit, and Tom knew perfectly well not to come between me and his Syracuse crew neck.

The mid-morning sun shone through the floor-length window as I turned the page in my book. It had been a long while since I'd been able to just read for a few hours, but over the past few days, I had gotten through three novels, and now I was onto Albert Camus’ _The Stranger_. I hadn't read it since high school.

The steam from my hot chocolate rolled in the air like the smoke from a cigarette. The only sound I could hear was the rhythmic ticking of the clock on our dresser. I looked up from my book to give my eyes a break and gazed out the window at the city. Never in my life had I dreamt of having a day like this—alone with a book and a hot beverage in a lavish-but-homey apartment that overlooked New York City. This was truly something out of a movie.

I heard a camera shutter, and I turned my head to see Tom with his phone in the bedroom doorway.

“Forgot to turn my sound off.”

“You're back early,” I mused with a grin.

“I missed you.” My heart fluttered in my chest.

“We’ve only been apart for a few hours, sweetheart.”

“Doesn't mean I can't miss you,” he replied, a sweet smile on his face. I motioned for him to come join me on the mattress.

Tom stripped out of his suit, not bothering to hang anything up. He crawled into bed with only his undershirt and boxers on and lay next to me with his head at my hip. I reached down and played with his cropped curls.

“How was work?”

“Boring without you,” he mumbled into my side. “How’s your book?”

“Better than I remember.” I tilted it to show him the cover. “Read it years ago when I was in high school.” Tom shifted to lean on his elbow.

“Read it to me?”

“But you missed the beginning.”

“I've read it before.” He sat up and nudged my legs so I would unfold them for him to lay between. He spread them and scooted in front of me so he could lay on his back with his head resting on one of my thighs. “I just like listening to your voice.” I ran my fingers through his hair again.

“We’re towards the end of part one. Right before the beach.”

“Alright. I'm listening.”

I read to him for about twenty minutes, stumbling over some words every few pages, before I realized that Tom had dozed off. I stopped and bent to press a soft kiss to his cheek.

“Keep going,” he purred, startling me.

“I thought you fell asleep.”

“Nope.”

So I keep reading for another hour or so before he actually _did_ fall asleep. His quiet snores made my lips curl into a smile. He looked so adorably peaceful when he slept. I glanced over at my cold cocoa and exhaled. _So much for finishing my hot chocolate._ I bookmarked the page and set the book down before carefully sliding myself down the mattress and underneath Tom. I rested his head on my chest and wrapped my arms around him. I nuzzled the top of his head before dozing off along with him.

 

* * *

 

 

My eyes fluttered open as I woke to Tom stirring next to me. He was face down on the mattress with his left arm thrown over my stomach. I tilted his wrist toward me to check the time on his watch. The sky glowed red with the setting sun. We had slept the afternoon away.

I hissed when Tom gripped my hip with impeccable force.

“Tom,” I whined, prying his fingers from my flesh. He whimpered softly into the sheets. I shifted so I could see his face. “Tommy.” I shook him, scared that he was hurt. His eyes were squeezed shut, his jaw was clenched, and he had a tight hold on my wrist. “Tommy, wake up.” I shook him again, harder this time.

His eyes snapped open and searched frantically.

“(Y/n)?”

“I'm here.” He tried sitting up but collapsed back onto the bed with a groan.

“My arm’s asleep.”

“Are you okay? I thought you were in pain.”

“Nightmare.”

“Oh, Tommy,” I soothed, running my fingers through his disheveled curls. “What about?”

“You. Us.” He traced the scars on my leg with his fingers. “I watched you die in front of me.” My jaw slackened.

“I'm here, Tom,” I whispered.

“I know.” He shifted up and wrapped his arms around me. “I was… I was the one who did it.” I stiffened. “I didn't mean it,” he sobbed into my hair. “I misfired. I didn't mean to hurt you.”

“Shh, shh, shh…” I relaxed again and squeezed him tighter. “Tommy, it's okay. I promise it's okay.”

“I never want to hurt you ever again.”

“I know. I know. It's okay,” I repeated.

“God, we’ve spent so much time building up trust.” He pulled away from me and held my chin in his hand. “I trust you with my whole heart. I'm so sorry.”

“Thomas, you don't need to be sorry.” I felt tears burn my eyes.

“Little dove, don't cry.”

“I can't help it,” I whimpered. “Seeing you cry makes my chest hurt. It breaks my heart.” He cupped my cheeks in his hands and wiped away my tears. We leaned our foreheads against each other’s.

“I will never hurt you. I promise.”

“And I’ll never hurt you.” I pressed my lips to his nose. “I promise.”

We sat with each other, sniffling in the silence of our small apartment in the center of New York. We were so far from home, and the stresses of our work and keeping up appearances drained us, but we could get through it together.

“I love seeing this side of you,” I said, wiping the last of my tears. “Not you crying, just… I love that you can be vulnerable with me. I love you.”

“I love you too, little dove.” He intertwined his fingers with mine. “I love that you let me be vulnerable.”

“Of course.” We kissed sweetly once more before climbing out of bed to go make dinner together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty, my dear readers. This is where I take my leave for the nest few months. I'll try my best to update again at some point over the summer, but I can't make any promises. Thank you all for reading, enjoy your summer, and i hope this fic is meeting your expectations so far! <3


	16. Chapter 16

The city truly never slept, and I found myself doing the same. As the gala approached, my nerves went absolutely haywire. I often caught myself biting my lip and fingernails over our plans to bring down Say—and more importantly how this all was affecting Tom. He had been getting noticeably more irritated with little things, like how long it took to boil some water for pasta or how quickly his phone battery died. Even still, he miraculously kept his cool around me.

I sat in our bed and watched  _ The Late Show _   while Tom was out getting something for dinner. I knew I should have been sleeping, but my stomach wouldn’t stop gurgling with hunger—or maybe with nerves. Whenever Tom left, I couldn’t help but worry about his safety. On top of being on a dangerous woman’s hit-list, this was New York; like in any city, crime rates soared, and I didn’t put it past anyone to mug Tom while he was out—even if he did look homeless in his old pajamas and hoodie.

I subconsciously worried my bottom lip between my teeth as the lights from the city below flickered across the wall. It had been about an hour since Tom left, and my anxiety began to run rampant. I felt jittery and on edge, even in the comfort of my own bed. 

Still, my eyelids weighed tons. I could feel myself drifting off.

 

* * *

 

 

_ Where had he gone to get dinner? Was an hour too long? Should I go out and look for him? _

_ Just as I was about to get up and pace, the front door unlocked, and I eased back into the soft, cotton sheets.  _

_ “Sweetheart, you had me worried,” I called to him. He didn't answer. “Tom?” I asked with a furrowed brow. Still nothing. Something wasn't right. _

_ I reached under the side table and carefully pulled off the hidden knife. Chills crawled up my spine as I inched toward the bedroom door.  _

_ “Tom, what's the matter?” I tried sounding natural, although my trembling hand hinted otherwise. I adjusted my sweaty grip on the knife and pushed open the door to the living room. It felt as if my spine was replaced with a steel beam.  _

_ Before me stood a towering, burly man with a pistol pressed to Tom’s temple. My breath hitched as Tom’s chest heaved. _

_ “Drop the knife, Mrs. Hiddleston.” Immediately, the blade fell from my fingers. “Turn around and put your hands up on the wall.” My eyes darted to Tom’s. He pleaded silently for me to listen to the man. If Tom could have fought him off, he would have, so something was seriously wrong. _

_ I slowly turned toward the wall and rested my palms flat on its cool surface. I heard shuffling from behind me, followed by a thud at my feet. I looked down to see Tom curled on his side next to me. His hands were zip-tied behind his back.  _

_ “What's going on?” I asked, trying to keep my voice as calm as possible.  _

_ “Shut up,” he barked. “I won't hesitate to blow both your god damned brains out.” I stiffened. The man stuffed his gun into the back of his pants and pinned me with his chest as he brought my hands behind my back to bind them. He pushed me to my knees. _

_ What the fuck happened? Who was this guy? Did he work for Say, or was he just some pissed off client? _

_ “Don't fuckin’ try anything,” he warned. “I'm making a call.” With that, he left.  _

_ I looked down at Tom, who was still on his side. _

_ “Who the fuck is that?” I whispered.  _

_ “Your guess is as good as mine,” he muttered into the floor. “He knows who we are, apparently.” _

_ “What the hell happened?” _

_ “He grabbed me on the way up.” _

_ “We need to get out of here.” _

_ “We don't have many options. We’re on the 30th floor with no use of our hands.”  _

_ Time to panic.  _

_ “Oh my god, we’re gonna die.” Tom shifted so he was sitting up. _

_ “Get me loose.” He nudged his hands toward me.  _

_ “Tom, he’ll kill us.” _

_ “Just do it!” I hesitated before leaning forward to gnaw through the zip tie. It took longer than I anticipated, but the plastic gave way. _

_ “Your wrists are bleeding.” _

_ “Better than being tied up.” He grabbed the forgotten knife. “Turn around.” I faced the wall and gave him my hands.  _

_ Then there was a shot. And a thud.  _

_ Warm blood sprayed over the wall. _

_ The world slowed down. _

_ “Tom.” _

_ “I told you not to fuckin’ try anything.” _

_ “Thomas,” I repeated, my entire body shaking. Tears rolled down my cheeks. “Tommy, answer me.” _

_ “Get up. Let's go!” I was pulled up from the floor and forced to the front door. “Tommy!” I cried, trying to glance back at our spot by the bedroom. He needed to be okay. He needed to be fine. “TOMMY!” I shrieked, my chest collapsing into itself.  _

_ He lay slumped next to where I had been sitting, a halo of crimson around his head. I screamed his name again, trying to fight back against my captor. He pushed me into the hallway and slammed the door shut. _

 

* * *

 

I shot up, my heart pulsating in my throat. My cheeks and neck were soaked with fresh tears. I threw off the blanket and searched blindly for my phone.  _ 12:14 AM _ .

“Darling, I’m back,” I heard Tom call.

I leapt from the bed and raced into the living room, throwing my arms around his neck and burying my face into his shoulder.

“Please never go out this late again,” I whimpered.

“(Y/n), what happened?”

“A terrifying—”  _ Gasp _ “—fucking nightmare.”

“Oh, little dove.” He nuzzled his nose into my hair. “It’s alright now. You’re okay.”

“Why are they so vivid?” I clutched his shirt in my fists. “Why?”

“I don’t know, (y/n). I don’t.” 

We stood there for what felt like ages. He just held me while I sobbed into his shirt. It seemed like this was our natural state—me, emotionally disturbed, and Tom, my therapist. 

“Why can’t I get a check on my emotions?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like, I don’t know.” I sighed. “Before we really got together, I was strong and independent and didn’t cry so much. But now, I cry all the time. I get scared so often. I have to have you here to calm me down. I feel like I’m always the damsel in distress. Like I can’t take care of myself. I’m too dependent. And every time I think I’m making progress, it all crumbles with, like, one stupid little thing.”

“Just because you’re more emotional doesn’t mean you aren’t strong, (y/n).” I sniffled. “Being in touch with your emotions is a good thing. If anything, it makes you stronger.”

“Right, because being a crybaby isn’t keeping me from doing my job or anything.”

“Hey, hey, hey. This is  _ not  _ your job. It’s mine. You never need to get involved with this shit again; I’ll take care of you.”

“I just feel like a fucking child. Like, I love when you take care of me, but I feel like I’m a burden—like…” I struggled to find the right way to describe it. “...like if I had to be independent again, I wouldn’t be able to do it.”

“Maybe it’s because this is something you need. Especially if you’re not used to having someone there when you need them. Besides, I can always back off with the doting boyfriend gig,” he chuckled. I smiled softly.

“No, I like it.” I sighed again, “I guess just give me a little space? I just want to learn how to take care of myself again.”

“Done.” He leaned down to kiss my nose. A dish shifted in the sink, and I jumped into his chest. “So, I guess we’re not sleeping for a while?” I looked up to see his lips curl into the tiniest smile. I shook my head. “Alright. Let’s at least get some food into you. I’m starving.”


	17. Chapter 17

I never realized how much prep went into getting ready for the Met Gala. It felt like I was in a wedding party; my day was a whirlwind of appointments for my hair, nails, makeup—everything.

“No, everything’s fine right now.” I sat with my phone propped between my shoulder and cheek, glancing at the woman next to me. “Yes, Talia is here with me. Why are you so worried?”

“Because we’ve both been pretty jumpy lately, and I just think for our peace of mind—”

“ _Y_ _our_ peace of mind.”

“Yes, _my_ peace of mind,” he chuckled through the phone. “I just want you to be safe. It makes me feel better that she’s with you.”

“And you? Is Will with you?”

“Of course. We’re getting fitted.” I sighed, not in relief, but something along those lines. “You don't have to worry about me.”

“I always worry about you.”

“And you say it's only for _my_ peace of mind,” he laughed. I snorted and picked up my right hand to examine the new French tips.

“I love you, you know that?”

“Yes, little dove. I love you, too.” I could hear his smile through the phone. “I'll see you at one for lunch.”

“I’ll be there.” I carefully slipped my phone from my shoulder and set it on the table.

“What a softy,” Talia giggled.

“Yeah,” I sighed dreamily. “Always worrying.”

A few days after my nightmare, Tom decided that it would put both of us at ease to have someone with us when the other had to leave. He temporarily moved them into an apartment on the floor below ours to make traveling easier. I'd met the woman once before at the Christmas Eve party. I was skeptical at first, but once I got to know Talia and Will, it was a lot better than I expected. They were both kind and patient people, but I could still tell that they were no-nonsense.

“It's really good to see him happy again. Like, genuinely happy,” she told me. I smiled inwardly at that, a sense of pride washing over me. “He used to be so serious all the time. He worked too hard. But since you two met, he’s been taking better care of himself. He actually sleeps now,” she laughed.

“How long have you worked for him?” I watched as she pulled back her raven braids into a low ponytail.

She was beautiful. Her ebony skin looked so flawless and smooth. Her warm brown eyes glistened under the fluorescent lights when she flashed her dazzling-but-modest smile. She was petite and carried herself with such grace and dignity—you wouldn't really expect that she could bench 285 pounds. Or that she was a bodyguard for a dangerous criminal.

“I think about three or four years now? Since I got my Masters degree. It's been a long time. Not as long as Will, though.” She flipped through the magazine in her lap. “I'm surprised he didn't send him with you instead.”

I laughed, trying to imagine Will sitting next to me in a salon for 2 hours. “I'd pay to see him get a French manicure.” Talia chuckled, too.

“So, what's it like? I heard you went rogue?”

“Why? Are you planning on it?” I laughed.

“No! Of course not. It's just so intriguing to me. World’s greatest spy falling for the enemy and turning against her handler—seems pretty _espionage-flick_ to me.”

“I wouldn't say I'm the world's greatest spy.”

“Really? That's the part you're focusing on here?” We snickered at that.

Talia was so easy to speak with. She listened and gave great feedback and advice when I needed it. Being able to talk to someone else on the inside of everything was a wonderful change from only having Tom to talk to, especially since I felt bad dumping all my problems on him.

“I dunno,” I began, going back to her point. “It just… happened. When I was undercover, it was like we were just two normal people.” I shrugged. “Not to mention, my employer was a terrible fucking person. But, yeah. We just kinda fell in love, and then that was it. I was done for.”

“That's so cute!” she exclaimed. “New idea for a novel!”

I rolled my eyes. “I'd read it.”

Once our nails were finished, Talia and I decided to go pick up some coffee. We wandered around Central Park for a bit before picking a small plot of grass to sit on.

People of all ages passed by. Children ran around and played while their parents sat and talked about God-knows-what. Some men were out on a baseball field playing a pick-up game. Couples strolled past. Merchants pushed their carts along. I inhaled the sweet air—it was refreshing. I needed to get out more.

“So, what did you study?” I asked, sipping my coffee.

“Architectural Engineering.”

“Whoa! That's so cool.”

“Thanks! When I was little I used to design and build houses for my Barbies with my mom. It was a lot of fun.”

“How'd you end up here, then?”

“I designed the safe houses!”

“No fucking way! They're beautiful, Talia.”

“Thanks. Tom told me you had an eye for the bathtubs,” she chuckled. “Yeah, the houses were my biggest project.”

“So, if that's what you studied, how'd you end up as a bodyguard.”

“Gymnastics.” She shrugged. I threw my head back in laughter at her simple answer.

“I’ll drink to that. That's how I got into spying. Well, that and ballet. I was really good at maneuvering around.”

“Me too! It takes a lot of strength, man. I swear, gymnasts and dancers could take over the world.”

“Damn right,” I laughed.

 

* * *

 

“Let me see those nails of yours,” Tom said with a smile, reaching for my hand. As he examined them, I intertwined our fingers.

“Oops. My hand slipped.”

“Aren’t they cute, Will?” Talia asked, peeking over her wine glass.

“I mean, if we’re talking ‘Couple of the Year’ award…” He wrapped his arm around her waist and slid her toward him on the booth. I laughed, albeit a little anxiously.

I knew they were just acting. This was a ruse to protect ourselves further by appearing as if we were just two normal couples on a double lunch date, but I couldn't shake my nerves; ever since the nightmare, I was on edge about our safety. Sure, I had been realistic in thinking that something could happen to us as a result of my running away… But seeing Tom crumpled on the floor in a pool of blood was something I never imagined in such detail. My stomach churned just thinking about it.

“Hey, are you okay?” Will asked. I hadn't realized I'd been spacing out.

“What's wrong?” I couldn't even look up at Tom.

“I feel sick,” I managed. His fingers burned the skin of my shoulders.

“You're absolutely freezing.”

I slid out of the booth and walked toward the restrooms as calmly as I could, not noticing Tom calling after me. My pace quickened as the first wave of extreme nausea hit. With my lips in a tight line and sweat starting to drip from my forehead, I rushed into the bathroom and just barely made it to one of the stalls before I crashed to my knees. Everything spewed out at once into the porcelain bowl.

I didn't hear Talia come in after me over the sound of my retching. She knelt next to me and pulled back my hair. Her free hand soothed my back as I continued to unload my lunch into the toilet.

“You're okay, honey. You're okay.” She tied up my hair as best she could and left the stall to grab some paper towels. I fell back onto my ass and wept silently as she cleaned my face. “It's okay,” she continued.

The door opened with a faint squeak. I looked over to see Tom peering into the stall.

“Is she alright?” He knelt beside us. Talia still held my chin in her hand as she wiped my cheeks.

“Not sure.”

“What happened, little dove?” he whispered. I sobbed and looked away.

“I remembered that nightmare.” I didn't have to specify which.

“(Y/n), look at me.” He took my face in his palms. “I'm right here, see? I'm fine. You're fine. There's nothing to be anxious about.”

“I can't help it,” I rasped. “I can’t unsee it.”

“(Y/n), you're okay. It wasn’t real. Everything is going to be fine.”

He pulled me into his arms and sat back with me in his lap. I cried into his chest and clutched at his shirt while he rubbed my back reassuringly.

“You’re so strong, you know? I’m so proud of you for trying to handle this.” I sobbed harder at his praises. I didn’t feel worthy of them, and it overwhelmed me when he said things like that. Crying was my instinctive response.

Tom lifted me to my feet and helped me back out to the table. Will had already payed, so we left and made our way back to the apartment.

“Are you sure you’re still up to go to the gala?”

“I don't want today to go to waste.”

“It wouldn't be a waste, little dove. You can still have pretty nails even if you're not going to a huge social event.”

“I know. But the dress…”

“It's not going to disintegrate after the gala’s over,” he chuckled. “You can wear it for something else.”

I thought about it for a minute, remembering how excited I was after he first revealed to me that we would go. I smiled as I pictured his face when he saw me in the dress; his eyes were wide, and a massive grin spread across his beautiful lips. He was so happy. He couldn't have been more excited that I was excited.

Then I remembered how good it felt to be outside earlier in the day with Talia. The park was freeing. It felt good to just exist outside of my bedroom.

“No, I want to go. We need this. I can't keep staying inside all the time. And you've been working so hard…”

“Positive?”

“Positive.”

He kissed my forehead and pulled me into a hug. “Then let’s get ready.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait. Things have been crazy (I just transferred colleges and have been dealing with that) and I've kind of been drowning in writer's block. Hopefully I start updating this a little more consistently. Thank you for your patience. <3


	18. Chapter 18

“Morning, my sleeping beauty,” Tom whispered.

I groaned as a sliver of sunlight burned my eyes. “I know you’re just saying that to make me feel better about whatever I did last night.”

“You don’t remember.” He didn’t sound surprised.

“Do I want to?”

“I had the pleasure of being in Six-Drink (y/n)’s presence last night.”

Another groan. “Oh god…”

 

* * *

 

_Stepping into my dress was like stepping into a new skin. Immediately after I’d put it on, it seemed as if every worry and insecurity that I had melted away and left me with a new elegant, confident, and charismatic mindset. And it was noticeable._

_“You look like you feel better,” Talia mentioned, glancing at me from her seat._

_“I do. It's nice.”_

_“Well, you should. That dress is absolutely dazzling. Not to mention the woman inside it.”_

_“Shut up,” I laughed. “You're just as stunning.”_

_“I know. I'm just saying that you should feel like this all the time.”_

_“Get a room,” Will scoffed. I just rolled my eyes and snuggled closer to Tom._

_We pulled up to the Met, and I gathered my dress as best I could so the others could get out first. The fluffy tulle skirt practically filled the whole back seat. Getting the dress into the limo was a feat on its own. And getting it out took a village._

_“You really are a princess,” Will mused as he and Tom helped me out of the car._

_“Glad you finally noticed!” I joked back, straightening myself out. Tom closed the door behind me, careful not to get my dress stuck in it. I took his arm, and we headed up the marble stairs to the entrance._

_“You're the absolute picture of poise, little dove. You've done a complete 360 from this afternoon.”_

_“Actually, it would be a 180,” I corrected with a smirk._

_“You knew what I meant,” he chuckled. “You're lucky I love you.”_

_“I know.” I kissed him chastely as we were ushered inside the building._

_Camera flashes burst on every side of us. Tom lead me through the crowd of reporters on the red carpet, stopping us every once in awhile for pictures. We did the same pose each time, but occasionally he'd sneak a kiss for a picture._

_As we walked down the steps, I couldn’t help but ogle at all the celebrities around us. Singers, actors, directors, and designers all posed for pictures. Tom had to nudge me along every so often when a star would catch my eye._

_“You’re being a creep,” he laughed, leading me off the carpet and into the museum. “They’re just people.”_

_“Famous people! I’ve never even breathed the same air as a celebrity and now all of them are in the same building as me.” I practically bounced after him. “Do you think anyone will be at our table?  I saw Rihanna. I hope she sits with us.”_

_“That’s pretty wishful thinking, my darling.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead. “You sound like a star-struck teenager.”_

_“I sound like every other non-famous person in here.” I let go of his arm and put my hands on my hips in mock defiance._

_“I can’t believe you’re not even drunk yet.”_

_“You’ve seen me drunk, Tom,” I laughed. He strode toward me and pulled me into his arms._

_“And I am so excited to be back in Drunk (y/n)’s presence tonight.”_

_“As if you’re going to be sober,” I scoffed. Tom giggled and pulled me into the dining area to find our table._

_“I just wonder what you're like after six drinks,” he mused. “One drink, you're flirty; two drinks, giggle-fits galore; three drinks, dancing like a madwoman; four drinks, truth or dare—minus the truth; and five drinks, hot and heavy.” I smacked his chest playfully._

_“Oh, stop. You're making that up.”_

_“I am not, and you know it.”_

_“Well, we’ll just have to wait and see.” I waggled my eyebrows as I downed the glass of champagne waiting at my seat._

 

* * *

 

_I laughed as Tom spun me around and brought me back into his chest in time with the music. It was perfect. No one else existed but us on the dance floor._

_“Where’d you learn to dance like this?” I asked._

_“My sister’s wedding.”_

_“You have a sister?”_

_“Two, actually.”_

_I pouted slightly. “You never told me that.”_

_“I don’t know much about your family either. I mean, we never really talked about it.”_

_I slowed to a stop in his arms. “Maybe we should?” My mind spun slightly from dancing—and the alcohol. “I mean, we’ve been getting really serious since January.”_

_I thought we had the perfect relationship, but did I really know_ anything _about Tom? Sure, I had a rough idea of his profession and that he was insanely wealthy, but I didn't know about his family, childhood, schooling—anything._

_“Maybe we should,” he agreed. “After tonight.” His playful grin hinted at his plan to spin me and regain our momentum._

_I smiled and gracefully stole my fourth flute of champagne from a waiter._

 

* * *

 

_I nibbled at Tom’s ear from behind, causing him to jump with surprise._

_“Hey, baby…” I breathed._

_“There you are. I thought you'd been whisked away by some celebrities,” he laughed. I glanced up at him through my lashes._

_“Are you mad?”_

_“What? Of course not.”_

_“What if… I want you to be?”_

_He looked at me as if I had sprouted three heads. “What?”_

_I leaned into him and walked my fingers up his chest. I felt Tom tense, followed by a stirring in his pants against my stomach._

_“What has gotten into you?” He mumbled, searching my eyes wildly._

_I lifted an empty flute and wiggled it in front of him. He gingerly took it from me and set it down on the table next to us._

_“Alright, I think you've had enough. I always forget what a lightweight you are.”_

_“Are you mad_ now _?”_

_“No, little dove. Just worried.”_

_“And slightly aroused,” I finished for him and grazed his bulge with my fingers._

_“Yes,” he hissed through his teeth, “but you're intoxicated.”_

_“Come_ on _, baby,” I whined, stumbling into his chest._

_“I think you've partied hard enough, my darling,” he chuckled. “We should get you home.”_

_“But what about Six-Drink (y/n)?” I turned around to find a waiter passing by with a tray of champagne, but before I could take one, Tom spun me away._

_“Oh no you don’t.” His grip didn’t falter._

_I crashed our lips together and ground my hips against him. He moaned into my mouth and his hands roamed up the sides of my arms. I parted from him and watched his dazed expression._ Too easy.

_“Oh yes I do.”_

 

* * *

 

_“What happened?” Talia asked as she and Will found us on the rooftop garden._

_“She’s had one too many, it seems,” Will joked._

_“More like six,” Tom corrected, looking up at them. “I shouldn’t have egged her on like I did in the beginning of the night.”_

_Talia knelt down in front of me. “Why’s she crying?”_

_“Meet Six-Drink (y/n). Each drink she has changes her behavior, and I guess the sixth causes meltdowns.”_

_Tears streamed down my cheeks. I sniffled and wiped my red nose unceremoniously with the back of my hand._

_“I just love you_ so _much, Tommy,” I sobbed._

_“I know.”_

_“I’m so sorry for ruining your night. I was so ridiculous."_

_“It isn’t ruined, little dove. It’s just time for it to end.” He and Will helped me to my feet, and Tom held me close to keep me upright. “You’ve done yourself in pretty well.”_

 

* * *

 

“I really cry after six drinks?”

“Like a baby.”

I sighed and pushed my flyaways back. “I bet I look like a raccoon.”

“Just a bit.” He leaned down to kiss my nose. “But a cute raccoon. Are you alright?”

“No,” I grumbled. “I have the worst hangover.”

“And I made us a nice, greasy brunch to help with that.”

“Really?”

“Of course. But this is the only time I’m doing this. All other hangovers are on you.”

“I get it, I get it. ‘Lightweight.’ That, I _do_ remember.”

"C'mon, little dove." He helped me out of bed and I followed him into the kitchen where a beautiful spread of breakfast foods awaited. "I even kept the curtains closed just for you."

"My hero," I swooned as I sat down at the island counter. "Hey, Tom? Can we talk about us?" I asked as he served me all the hash browns I could ever desire. "Like, in general. Ourselves. It's okay if you don't want to." He eyed me incredulously. "Actually, no, it's not okay. I want to talk about it. After what you said last night about having sisters... I just feel like we don't _actually_ know each other that well. I want to know you."

"Of course we can talk about us. I want to know you just as much as you want to know me." I smiled shyly as I took my plate from him.

He started off with his family—his two sisters, Sarah and Emma, his mom, and his dad. They were divorced, but he still kept in touch with both of them. He and his sisters were as close as sardines in a can. He told me how it ate him up inside to lie to them about his life. I knew how he felt; I lied to my parents about what I did, too. It wasn't an option _not to_ in our world. Then he told me about his childhood and how he always wanted to be an actor, but his dad told him he should go into a more stable career. His love of Shakespeare wasn't a secret to me, but he shared stories of all the plays he went to and performed in, and how he would kill for a chance to do it again.

I told him all about my childhood: how I used to play with my friends down by the river during the summer; how I wasn't great at school, but how much I wanted to be a dancer. I brought up my grades and took ballet classes throughout school. It was what I was good at. My mom wanted to send me to Juilliard, and I got accepted, but we couldn't afford it. Then I moved to France and joined a ballet guild instead.

Then it was time to talk about our professions.

"After about 2 years of living in Nice, I was recruited _—kidnapped_ , I should say _—_ and trained by Ms. Say. I thought I would never talk with my family again, but once she could trust me, she let me have my own phone. It was monitored, of course."

"How long were you with her until we met?"

"Seven years? I think. Yeah. Seven."

"Wow."

"Well, what about you? How'd you get to where we are now?"

"Well, after I graduated from Uni with a concentration in business, I went on to start my own company, but I failed miserably. I wanted to start a Shakespearean playhouse. Ben found me and took me under his wing when I was about 23. He taught me how to defend myself physically and financially. Then about two years ago, he gave me his company."

"And now look at us."

Tom smiled and took my hand in his. "I have the most beautiful, smart, and talented woman by my side."

"You're only saying that because you have to." I blushed.

"Absolutely not. I love you with all of my heart, little dove. You're the most important thing in the world to me."

"I'm gonna cry." He pulled me into his lap and kissed my hair. I snuggled into his chest and wrapped my arms around him. "I love you so much, Thomas. You are an amazing man. I can't believe I ever questioned it."

"It's alright. We're here now. There's no point in dwelling on the bad things in our past. They got us here. That's all that matters."

Our brunch sat on the counter, cold and forgotten as we held each other in comfortable silence.


	19. Chapter 19

Tom and I lounged in the tub after a hard workout. He faced the door, and I draped my legs over his lap, curling up into his side. I breathed in the soothing scent of lavender and let my body melt.

It felt good to be back in the house. I liked living in New York, but the apartment was cramped and just didn’t feel as safe as the house in the woods. Plus, I could finally relax in the world’s best bathtub—complete with jacuzzi jets and the hottest piece of ass to share it with.

“Would you like to get back into work?” He asked, massaging my calf. “I know how much you want to be busy.”

“Like… assassin work? Because no. Sorry, sweetheart.” I sipped my wine.

“No, no. Of course not.” He rubbed his thumb over the back of my free hand. “I mean, like, for me. _With_ me. I want you to be my partner.”

“That's so sweet, Tom.” I kissed his cheek. “but… what _exactly_ do you do? Like, I know that Ben gave you the company, but you've never told me anything else.”

“You never asked,” he chuckled.

“Tom.”

“I'm just a supplier.”

“For diamonds?”

He shrugged. “Among other things.”

“Drugs?” I asked knowingly.

“Mm. And weapons. All sorts.”

“And exactly how many times have you used your own products…?”

“Just the diamonds and guns. Never the drugs.”

“Good to know.” He caressed my arm with his dripping knuckles.

“I promise.”

“I believe you.”

“So you'll do it? You’ll come work with me?”

“What's in it for me?”

“Well… New business-wear.” Tom walked his fingers up my arm. “A big office all to yourself. Wall-to-wall bookshelves full of literature. A sofa to lounge on.”

“You're describing your own office.”

“Am I? Silly me.”

“You want me to share your office, don’t you?”

He nodded with a grin. “Especially if I'm buying you new clothes. It would be so terrible to have you holed up in a separate office where I can't devour you with my eyes.”

“You'd never get any work done,” I mused, glancing up at him knowingly. He swiftly repositioned himself so he hovered over me like a predator over prey.

“On the contrary.”  He leaned in so our lips could almost touch. “I would… _work_ … so much harder.” He took my wine and set it on the side of the tub as he leaned in to kiss me with a fiery passion I had almost forgotten.

“Throw in some more Louboutins,” I breathed as his lips grazed my burning cheek, “and you have yourself a deal, Mr. Hiddleston.”

“Deal,” he purred into my neck. “You start tomorrow.”

 

* * *

 

It had been a few weeks since I started at Tom’s company, and it was great. Will was there to help me acclimate to the environment, and I got to spend more time with Tom.

He and I had a huge presentation with potential clients today, and he put me in charge of going over all the specs. I knew it was because he just wanted to sit back and admire me as I sold this company’s ass off. After all, the clothes he bought me were so sharply tailored that I would have been intimidated by myself a few years earlier. I felt more powerful than I ever had in my life, and in truth, it made me feel sexy as hell. No objections from me on that front.

But it also made me nervous.

My palms sweated as I fixed my dress and hair in the bathroom. This would be my first presentation for him, and I was so scared of screwing it up. He told me that no matter what, I would do great—and I knew if I fucked up the sale, he wouldn't be angry with me—but this company was his baby; I couldn't jeopardize it.

Since he was running behind with plans to catch Ms. Say, I told him I'd take the documents and charts to the conference room and set up for him. After running around to different cubicles to collect all the thumb drives, posters, and portfolios, I could already feel the blisters forming on my toes and heels.

As I worked on the computer to project the graph display, five men rushed in from the office space and examined the empty room. A few of them sighed with relief when they realized that Tom wasn't in yet and that they wouldn't be the last people arriving at the meeting. They moved behind me to grab their seats, but as one of them passed by, I felt his hand caress my thigh through my dress. My back went rigid. He leaned down close enough that I felt his warm breath on my neck.

“Would you mind getting us some coffee? We have a meeting with Hiddleston and his business partner soon and can't make it downstairs ourselves.” He gave my ass a squeeze and a pat before settling down into his seat. His friends chuckled along with him.

I couldn't move. My cheeks burned with fury. This man had the _audacity_ to touch me like that in my own workplace. _Oooh, Tom is gonna be deliciously pissed when I tell him…_ I thought to myself with a wolfish smirk. I knew he'd rip them a new one for touching me—and even just assuming that I was only a secretary.

But then I thought of a better idea.

“Certainly,” I whispered, exiting the room with my head down.

Once I was out into the offices, I righted my posture as I marched down the walkway. I heard a few of the men stop talking to watch me as I headed toward the elevator. I eyed Will, who stood up in confusion when he noticed my brisk pace.

“If Mr. Hiddleston asks, I'll be back in five minutes,” I told him as the doors began to close. “Don't let him start without me.”

“Yes, Miss (y/n).”

Exactly five minutes later, I re-entered the conference room with a cup carrier full of searing-hot coffee. I gingerly placed it in the center of the table and stood at the other end, a little off to the side. Tom glanced at me curiously, but I just dismissed him with a silent “trust me.”

“Well, then,” he began. “Shall we start?” The men looked at him incredulously.

“Where is your business partner? Shouldn't we wait for him?” one of them asked warily.

I let out a borderline-menacing, tight-lipped chuckle and pressed my palms onto the chestnut wood of the table.

“ _I’m_ his business partner.”

One of the men choked on his coffee in disbelief. Then there was silence.

Tom's lips twitched into a familiar little smirk—one that gave away his impending arousal.

I straightened myself. “Now we can begin.”

The five men squirmed in their seats as I spoke about quarterlies and shipping details from the previous financial year. I couldn't help but think that this presentation was just a waste of time after the coffee incident. I knew I could get these idiots to buy from us. Hell, we were pretty much the only commercial inter-continental dealer. They'd really have no choice. But I could ensure their patronage now. They were right under my thumb.

A sharp pain in the back of my foot brought me back to reality. Each step around the table was _agony_. I could feel the blisters on my toes pop from the friction of my sweaty feet sliding against the front of my shoes. The skin on the back of my heels had been ripped clear off; the exposed flesh burned. I clenched my jaw and ground my teeth together to keep myself from whimpering. Tom looked to me with concern tugging at his brow. I shifted my weight from my heels to the balls of my feet to relieve the pressure as I continued on with my presentation.

“Could we have a few minutes to discuss?” asked one of the clients. They stood and made their way out into the work space. Tom closed the door after them, leaving only the two of us in the conference room.

“Are you alright?”

“Just my shoes. They're rubbing my feet raw.”

“Why didn't you take them off?”

A sudden laugh bubbled in my throat. “Because no man is going to listen to a girl who takes her shoes off in the middle of a meeting. You _know_ how hard it is for me to be taken seriously around here. Everyone just thinks of me as your lover.”

“I assure you—”

“ _Thomas_ ,” I drawled. “Look around. You have a workplace and clientele filled with men who would sooner treat women as sex objects or servants rather than their bosses. I need to work twice as hard just to get them to listen, let alone follow my orders or buy from me.”

“Then, I'll tell them to start listening to you.”

I shook my head. “No, that won't work. I have to do it myself, or they won't ever respect my authority.” He shifted and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “If you went out there and announced that I was to be listened to and taken more seriously, they would only see it as me not being able to demand respect myself—that I need a man to do it for me. That's why I'm messing with the guys in here. They didn't respect me when they walked in, so I’ll  _make_ them respect me on their way out. Do you get what I'm saying?”

“I do.”

“This isn’t anything against you. I promise. I just know what it's like to be the only woman in a professional environment. You have to work so hard to convince people you're the HBIC.”

“HBIC?” He cocked an eyebrow. I licked my smirking lips.

“Head Bitch In Charge.” I shrugged.

Tom laughed out loud. “Well, you're certainly doing a marvelous job with that.”

“Trust me—I know what I'm doing.” He leaned down and pressed his soft lips to mine.

“I trust you.”

The men filed back into their seats and we began again with discussions of the product and delivery. Tom watched me intently as I strode around the room while explaining how the trade off would work. I didn't miss the hungry look in his eye.

“Now, any questions about payment?” I asked, nonchalantly picking at my nail.

“We could give you half upfront,” the man who harassed me said. “The rest of the money will come after the hand-off.”

“You really enjoy trying to go behind women’s backs, don’t you?” I narrowed my eyes at him. “To feel around for the best deal?” He swallowed. “Maybe promise the rest of the money ‘in good faith,’ then ambush the suppliers and take the goods without paying? That's not how this works. You can't just take what you want. I have little patience for that.” I pressed my palms against the table again and leaned forward to assert myself further. “I've already told you that I need to receive the full payment upfront. Either you comply.” I stood to my full height again. “Or you get _nothing_.”

You could hear a pin drop. I glanced at Tom, who was trying so hard to keep his composure. I could tell he was getting aroused by the idea of me beating the shit out of this man. He bit at his lip and clasped his hands in front of his crotch. I smirked at him, feeling my arousal stirring in my belly at the sight of his hooded bedroom eyes.

“Well?” I asked, strolling around the table to stand next to him. “Do we have a deal?”

The sad excuses for businessmen glanced at each other before agreeing.

“Excellent!” I chimed. “We’ll take cash.”

As the final pen stroke was made, the group’s accountant forfeited the wad of bills to me. I smiled, rolled it in my hands, and shoved it into my bra.

“A pleasure,” Tom finally spoke, shaking every hand for decorum. I kept mine folded in front of me. “We’ll be in touch.”

I closed the door behind them and immediately twirled around to face Tom, lunging at him and taking his lips in a hungry kiss.

“You did it,” he mumbled into my mouth “I'm so proud of you, little dove.” He turned us so my butt was resting on the edge of the conference table, and he stepped in between my legs. “You're so sexy right now.” I broke the kiss to nibble at his ear, which I'd recently discovered was his weak spot.

“On your knees,” I breathed. Immediately, he dropped to the ground. I smirked and spread my legs. “You always look so pretty like this.” I combed my fingers through his hair. He grazed his hands against my calves, curious and waiting. “Eat me.”

Tom pushed up my dress skirt, revealing my bare core, and kissed my legs.

I curled my fingers in his hair as he mouthed at my clit, scraping his scalp with my nails. He keened into my cunt, and I pulled him closer. My breaths came fast and shallow while he lapped at my folds.

“You’re very good at this,” I mused, bucking up into his mouth. His fingertips dug into the flesh of my thighs, leaving little crescent-shaped indents.

My chest heaved as he licked and sucked and nipped at me. I leaned back on one hand and kept the other firmly tangled in his curls. His own little moans sent shivers down my spine. This man was absolutely amazing.

“Yes,” I gasped when he flicked my clit with his tongue again. “Yes, Thomas!” His expert mouth lapped at me until I was writhing like a worm. I pulled him closer to me so his nose was pressed against my pubic bone.

He moaned into me and threw me into my undoing. I bit my lip to muffle my cries as I came into his waiting mouth. He licked my cunt and his lips clean before he leaned me back on the table and reached down to unbuckle his belt. I grinned at his delicious eagerness.

“Miss, may I fuck you into this table until you forget your own name?” he asked with big, innocent eyes.

“Oh, god, yes!”

He practically threw himself on top of me and yanked my dress up to give him access to my breasts. He gingerly removed the money and my bra, and I wiggled with impatience.

“God, you're exquisite,” he whispered. Tom dipped his head down and licked one of my already hard nipples as he teased my cunt with his thick cock. I moaned with need and bucked my hips up toward him.

“Get on with it!” I snapped, fisting my hand in his short curls and crashing his lips to mine. Immediately, Tom pushed himself into me.

We thrusted our hips together wildly. I nipped at Tom's neck and shoulder and left tiny love bites in my wake. My legs curled around his waist to give him a better angle, and he keened into my hair.

His dexterous fingers toyed with my clit, sending a jolt of electricity down my spine. My toes tingled and my stomach knotted with warmth. I wrapped my arms around his chest to bring him closer.

I could feel myself nearing the edge again. His cock filled me so perfectly—we were like two puzzle pieces. Not to mention, he really knew what to do to me.

“Tom, baby, I'm—” a loud moan interrupted me as he hit my g-spot. “Oh, god! I'm so close!” I clawed at his shoulders, almost hard enough to draw blood.

This only served to make his thrusts equally sharper and deeper. He bit down on my collar, and I clenched around him as he rammed into me. His lips found my breasts again, and he licked and sucked relentlessly at them until I couldn't do anything but writhe and whine in his embrace.

“Come,” he demanded.

His husky voice alone could have done me in, never mind his powerful hips and hot mouth. I gasped as I shook with my second orgasm. It threw him into his own beautiful release, and he spilled into me for what seemed like an eternity. He collapsed on top of me, panting and sated.

“Wow… that was so quick but _so_ good…” I whispered into his hair. “Who was I before you?”

He chuckled. “Virtuous”

“You're not wrong.”

“I can't believe you're mine.”

“Likewise.”

He kissed my chest. “And so… absolutely depraved.”

“Only because you, mister, are so shamelessly lustful.”

“Mm. Save the sweet talk for later, my darling.”

After a good fifteen minutes of laying in our own filth, Tom helped me up and straightened me out. We kissed quickly before regaining our professional—if you could even call it that—demeanors and entered back into our workplace.

As I stepped out of the conference room, the blister on my Achilles screamed in agony, and I practically threw myself forward out of pure instinct to relieve the fiery pain. I saw Will shoot up and rush toward me from the other end of the office. Luckily, Tom caught me, and he immediately propped me up on him. As Will reached us, Tom pulled out his wallet and shoved it in his direction.

“Bandaids, antibacterial cream, Plan B.” He peered down at me. “Chinese?” I nodded. “Send Brent.”

“Of course.” He spun around and went to deliver the instructions as Tom led me back to our office.

“You alright, little dove?”

I giggled. “More than alright. Totally and thoroughly satisfied.”

“I'm glad I could be of service,” he chuckled with a smirk. "Let’s get you out of those shoes and into your favorite chair.”


	20. Chapter 20

“Little dove! I’m home.”

“I’m in here,” I called back from the living room.

“I have some news. Are you sitting?”

“Wouldn’t be my day off if I wasn’t.”

Tom entered and sat beside me, taking my hands in his. He was quieter than usual—more solemn.

“Tom, what is it?”

He sighed. “I’ve finally tracked down Ms. Say’s headquarters.”

“That’s great!” His thin lips turned to a slight frown. “That’s… not great?”

“The building burned down. I don’t think it was an accident.” My stomach dropped. “I don’t know where she is now.”

“But… but we were so close!” I shot up from the sofa. “What the fuck?”

“I’m sorry, (y/n).” He stood and brushed a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “This doesn’t mean I’ll stop trying. I have Will and some others working on it. We’re going to find her. You're going to be free. I promise.”

I rested my head against his chest. “I can't believe this.”

“I know.”

“You've already been so busy with this.  Maybe we should just put it on the back burner.”

“(Y/n), what are you talking about?”

“I don't want your company to suffer.”

“I would sink the company before I just gave up on finding the woman who wants to take you from me.”

“Tom, that's sweet, but—” I paused, listening intently to the sounds of the house. Something wasn't right.

“Darling?”

“I thought I heard something.”

Then, Tom’s phone rang.

“Hello?”

_“Mr. Hiddleston, we have a problem.”_

“What is it, Will?”

_“It's about Say. She—”_

Glass shattered as a bullet flew through the window and just barely missed my shoulder.

It was as if the whole world stopped. I couldn't move—couldn't breathe. I didn't hear Tom yell for me to get down and barely registered him pulling me to the floor. I stared straight ahead at the ceiling, unconcerned with anything happening around me. It was as if my body were rejecting—in the most inconvenient way—the uncomfortable reality that she’d found me.

“Hey, hey, (y/n). Come back to me,” Tom muttered and lightly smacked my cheek a few times.

“What’s happening?” Everything started moving again and tears sprang to my eyes. “Tommy…”

“I know, I know. I’m working on it.” He reached behind him and ripped the gun from underneath the coffee table. “You need to get to the study.”

“Tom, I—”

“Listen to me.” More shots zipped through the window. “You know the Shakespeare bookshelf?” I nodded. “You need to get into the safe room behind it.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll be fine. Keep yourself low. I’ll come get you. Promise.”

“I love you, Tommy.”

“I know.” He stole a brief kiss. “I love you too. Now go.”

I hesitated for a second before following his orders. The gunshots had stopped, but I knew better than to make myself an easy target. I crawled through the living room and up the few steps to the hallway, then hustled to the study.

The idea of Tom getting hurt—or worse—made me nauseous beyond belief. My nightmare was coming true. What if he never came to get me? How long would I wait before leaving my hiding space, only to find him dead on the living room floor?

 _Stop it. You’re trained to deal with situations like these,_ I scolded myself. But that was before I had an emotional attachment—before Tom told me he loved me—before I put my trust in him. What was I supposed to do? I knew I should have found a gun and fought back alongside him. But he sent me to the study for a reason. He knew I would freeze up—hell, I already had out there.

The shelf was heavier than I anticipated, but then again, it was a shelf full of books. I slid it over just enough for me to squeeze through and then closed it again. I felt up the wall for a light switch, but I had no luck, so I fumbled around with my phone before I got the flashlight to work.

I jolted back toward the wall when I registered a retired portrait of Ben Kingsley staring back at me.

“What the fuck, Tom…” It didn’t matter; I had bigger issues.

I shined the light around the room and discovered a whole arsenal in the small space, then searched for a light. There was a switch right above where I had looked before. Once the light was on, I dove into the weapons chest and pulled out a pistol and pepper spray. The gun was pre-loaded, but I grabbed some extra ammunition to be safe.

Then I waited. My mind raced with possibilities, always ending in worst case scenarios. It seemed that this was the end. I gripped my phone tighter and searched the room one last time. My line of sight fell to the old painting again.

“Ben!” I whispered in realization. I unlocked my phone and dialed his number. It rang and rang and rang, but no answer.

I tried again.

More ringing and no answer.

Again.

More ringing. No answer.

“Come on, you bastard.” I tried once more, and finally he answered.

_“(Y/n)? Sorry, I was just—”_

“Ben, it’s fine, it's fine. Listen to me. They found us. They're here. Tom’s fighting them off but—”

_“Where are you?”_

“I'm in the study, behind the bookshelf. Please help us.”

_“Which house?”_

“The second one.”

 _“(Y/n), listen to me carefully. Behind the weapons cabinet, there is a keypad.”_ I shuffled toward the wall and quietly slid the box forward. _“Type in these numbers: zero, five, one, one, one, six, zero, five.”_

I did as he asked and the screen lit up green.

“What is this, Ben?”

_“A home defense system. It activates safety measures outside the house, as well as notifying Thomas’s back-up group. They should be on their way now. Make sure there are no lights on.”_

“Thank you. Thank you so much.”

_“Of course, my dear.”_

“Please, will you stay on the phone?”

_“Certainly.”_

Fresh tears ran down my cheeks as a small wave of relief washed over me. Ben’s presence on the phone soothed me enough to distract me from my wild-running thoughts. It felt like I had been there for ages, but it couldn't have been more than a few minutes.

I tensed when I heard the bookcase scrape against the wall as someone tried to move it.

“Ben, someone’s opening the crawlspace,” I whispered hysterically.

_“Aim your gun. Be ready to shoot, but be careful. It could be Thomas.”_

I did as he said and pointed the pistol at the entrance, my hand shaking with fear. I blinked away hot tears to clear my vision as light poured in through the crack between the bookcase and the wall. I balanced my phone on my shoulder so I could use my free hand to steady myself.

“(Y/n)!” I barely heard Tom’s muffled scream from down the hall. “(Y/n), it's not me!” I panicked and shot at the man’s legs. He crumpled to the floor. “NO! (Y/N)!” My heart broke with his screams; he definitely thought I was the one who'd been fired at. I took one final shot and hit my assailant in the head, grabbed his gun and shoved it into my pants.

“Ben, I need help,” I sobbed. “Please.”

_“Just wait in the safe room—”_

“I can't! They've found me. Please, please.”

_“I have the live feed of your house up. It looks like all the exterior men were taken down by the defense system. The heat signature shows four people in the house: two in the living room, two in the study. I'm guessing you and the one you just killed are the two in the study. Thomas is with someone else.”_

“Don't hang up,” I pleaded as I inched out of my hiding spot. I had my gun poised and ready as I tiptoed down to the edge of the living room wall.

“(Y/N)!” Tom cried again, followed by a thud and a whimper of pain.

“Shut up!” another person grunted back. Tom moaned at what I assumed to be a kick to the ribs. My rage flared in that moment. This man would not make it out of here alive, and I would be sure of it.

 _“(Y/n), WAIT! There's another person in the house!”_ I froze, but before I could process my options, I was grabbed from behind and smothered with a wet cloth.

I knew whatever the rag was soaked in wouldn't work immediately, so I tried fighting back. I thrashed and twisted, but my attacker was too strong, and with each struggle, I inhaled more and more of the chemicals. I could feel myself fading, and my body relaxed, allowing my gun to crash to the floor. I went limp and was dropped in a heap soon after. The last thing I saw before I blacked out was Tom reaching for me.


	21. Chapter 21

“(Y/n),” I heard Tom sob.

My head felt as if it were made of lead.

“(Y/n), please…”

My sandpaper tongue peeled away from the roof of my mouth as I willed myself to speak.

“Tom…”

I heard him shuffle toward me and lift my dead-weighted body into his lap. “Open your eyes, darling. Come on. For me.”

Slowly but surely, my eyelids fluttered apart, and I was met with the sight of his beautiful lips. I traced my gaze up to his.

“There you are.” He huffed out a laugh of relief. “My little dove.”

“Tom…”

“Shh, shh, shhhh. It’s alright. Don’t speak.” I winced as one of his tears dripped onto my cheek but relaxed as he wiped it away with his soft thumb.

“What happened… to your eye?” I rasped. He frowned and reached up to it, as if he had forgotten it was bruised.

“Just roughed up a bit.” He faked a smile. I shut my eyes in disgust.

The events leading up to this moment replayed in my head like a movie reel: the gunshots—the safe room—Ben—being smothered—Tom on the floor, reaching for me.

“How are your ribs?” Speaking came easier with each question. “Are you hurt?”

“Not so bad. I ache, but nothing too serious.” He leaned down and pressed a lasting kiss to my forehead. “I’m just glad you’re okay,” he choked. “I really thought…”

I reached up to caress his cheek. “I know.”

“God,” he exhaled as he took my wrist in his hand. “I thought they took you from me.”

I glanced around the dimly lit room and noticed a door on the right with a covered eye-slit. There was no knob on the inside, but a keypad lock. I then realized that they had left both of us unbound.

“Why did they put us in here together? And unchained?”

“I don’t know. But I’m glad they did. I couldn’t bare it if I didn’t know where you were or if you…”

“Tom, it’s alright. I’m here.” He smiled as I eased myself into an upright position against the cold cement wall. “How long have we been here?”

“I'd say only a few hours.”

“I called Ben in the house,” I admitted, turning to Tom. “He knows we’ve been attacked. He gave me the code.”

“That's brilliant, my darling.” He kissed my forehead in celebration. “They'll find us. Will and Talia know what to do.” Tom teased my golden anklet with his long fingers. “A tracking device,” he whispered and pulled me close. I buried my face in his shoulder.

“Tom, I'm so sorry for dragging you into this.”

“What?”

“If we had never started dating… if I hadn't fallen in love—”

“(Y/n), I fell in love with you, too.”

“But I should have just told you who I was from the start. It wouldn't have ended up like this.”

“It would have just happened sooner. And probably not with both of us on the same side.” Tom held me to his chest and soothed my back with his hand.

Hot tears rolled down my cheeks as we sat in each other’s embrace. I played with the hem of his sweater and thought about everything we’d been through.

It seemed as if we had only been together for a short time, but now that I was thinking about it, it had almost been a year since our first fateful meeting in the museum. So much had changed since then—so much of _myself_ had changed. I didn't doubt that being with Tom had both increased my capacity to trust and his capacity for empathy. I truly believed that we had reached a point where we loved each other more than we loved ourselves, and it was exhilarating. I couldn't help but cry at the thought.

“Tom… I'm so grateful that you never gave up on me.”

“Oh, little dove. Please don't cry.” He cradled my face in his hands and wiped away my tears with his thumbs. “I wouldn't give you up for the world. You're all I want.”

Suddenly, the lock on the door clicked, and I jumped in Tom’s arms. His grip tightened as we both waited for the person on the other side to come in.

“I love you,” Tom just barely whispered in my ear.

A man entered with several others, and I recognized them as the same from our business meeting. I tensed, and Tom pulled me against his chest, turning his shoulder away from them almost instinctively to shield me. His stone-cold stare never faltered as he sized them up. The men all had disgusting looks of triumph on their faces as they fanned out in the middle of the room and trapped us in.

But they hadn't closed the door.

Just as my mind began reeling to plan an escape, I heard the rhythmic click of dress shoes against the floor outside our prison. A looming figure entered, but he was directly behind one of the men and just out of my view. Tom’s body went rigid.

“Hello, lovers,” he greeted. I realized then why Tom stiffened.

“Will,” he snarled.

“What?” I breathed. “How?” There was no way Will had been Ms. Say this whole time—how could he be? I knew what Say looked like, and Will was _not_ her. Unless he had been hiding from me this whole time, used a fake identity, and sent someone to meet with me in his place…

There was _no way_.

Will chuckled as he answered, “Using a fake alias? Oldest trick in the book.”

“What the fuck are you doing?” Tom growled. He stepped through the line of other men.

“I'm surprised you hadn't figured it out. I wasn't being that careful. Especially with me being away so much. Thought you would've realized…”

Tom laughed in disbelief. “Is Talia in on this as well?”

“Your girl is very loyal, unfortunately. She was so skilled in the bedroom. I would have loved to have her.”

“What's your fucking game, Will?”

“Well for a while, you weren’t even on my radar. I was only after the company. Then Kingsley decided to retire, and you showed up in his place. So naturally, you became my target.” He knelt in front of me and held my chin with his thumb and index finger. “Especially after you stole my prized girl away from me.” My eyes went wide.

“Leave her the fuck alone,” Tom growled.

“I worked hard to shape her into the assassin she was. She was loyal, hard working… never questioned me. Not to mention: beautiful. She was the perfect weapon. Certainly worked on you, Hiddleston.” Will patted Tom’s cheek as he stood back up. “But she's so… soft, now—like a frightened little bunny. You've ruined her.”

“He didn't ruin me…" I whispered. "I never wanted to be an assassin."

“Is that what you're telling yourself now? That you never wanted this? You were good at it, (y/l/n).”

“I wanted to be a dancer.”

“I know, sweetie. Truth is, you _were_ a fantastic ballerina, but I couldn’t just let your potential go to waste. Besides, it's quite a boys’ club here, don't you think?” He gestured to the men behind him. “I needed at least _one_ woman on my team. How else would I get a bachelor like _him_ under my thumb?” He paced in front of us. “Come to think of it… If it weren’t for me recruiting you, you never would have met Dream Boat over here. But now, you’ve gone and done exactly what I instructed you not to do.” He leaned back down and tapped my head with his finger. “You let your heart get in the way of your head.”

“What the _fuck_ do you want?” Tom snapped, clearly bored of his theatrics. “Money? The company?”

“No. I want you _dead,_  Hiddleston. Your company has been the worst thing to happen to me. Your clients get so fucking strung out on the drugs and end up warranting assassination requisitions because they’re committing crimes with your weaponry halfway across the world by breakfast.”

“Wouldn’t that boost your profits? If you’re being paid to assassinate all these criminals?”

He barked out a laugh. “No, you fucking moron. Government officials have me under careful watch. I have a tight ship to keep so they continue funding me. They don't pay for assassinations—they pay for effortless, under-the-radar security. When they catch wind of the dirty work, they cut ties because they don’t want to be associated with it, for obvious reasons. To the rest of the world, I’m a philanthropist. I have a reputation to upkeep.”

“And what do you get out of this?”

“Money. Recognition. Influence. Legislative power. The ability to hide in plain sight. Every man’s dream really.”

“You don't need to kill me to take down my company.”

“No, but I _do_ need you out of the picture so Miss (y/l/n) can get her pretty head out of her tight, little ass and come back to me. With you dead, she’ll have nobody left to play with her emotions.” Tom shifted and pushed me behind him. “You can't save her, Hiddleston. I'm giving her the chance to come back to me with no repercussions. Either she takes it, or she's dead, too.”

More tears welled in my eyes. He was going to give me an ultimatum; it's what he always did to keep me in line. I squeezed my eyes shut to fight back against my nausea. There was no way in hell that I would do what he asked.

Will knelt in front of me again. I took Tom’s hand and squeezed it tight.

“You're going to kill him.” I shook my head but he gripped my chin to stop it. His dark eyes bore into mine. “You’re going to finish the job you started ten months ago. Then you can come back to me without fuss. You were a good employee. Better than any other. I'm willing to bring you back.”

“No,” I sobbed. “I won't.”

“I'll give you a few minutes to reconsider.” He stood and retreated from the room, followed by the five henchmen. The door echoed shut behind them.


	22. Chapter 22

“Tom, I can't.” I shook my head again. “I won't. I _won't_.”

“(Y/n). Look at me.” His cool hands soothed my cheeks, and he licked his lips slowly before he finished. “I don't see how you have much choice.” His eyebrow quirked up in a half-hearted look of reassurance.

“I’d rather die.”

“No. I won't let you sacrifice yourself for me. This is not your battle.” A tear rolled down his cheek. “I’m not worth it.”

“Son of a bitch, Tom!” I staggered to my feet and paced around the room, infuriated that he would even think that. “Stop being the hero for one second!” I clenched my fists in my knotted hair. “Of course you're worth it. I _love_ you. You are, without a doubt, the most important person in the world to me.” I turned back to him and watched him sob. “I don't want to live without you.”

“You're not going to die for me.”

“And you're not going to die for me!” Tom looked up at me in surprise. I sighed, wiping my tears away. It was time to take charge because he was ready to give in. He looked so defeated slumped against the cement wall. It broke my heart. “Look… Clearly we’re _both_ too stubborn to admit that neither of us want to die, but we’re too selfishly in love to let the other die instead. I know you love me enough to die for me… but I won't let you. I know you don't really want to." I knelt in front of him. "You're tired. This whole thing has totally worn you out. But I know you want both of us to live. _I_ want both of us to live. So… we just have to get out of this together.” I swept my thumbs across his cheeks and gingerly dried his tears. “You said we’ve only been here a few hours. How long will it take Ben to get here?”

“I don't know…” He sniffled. “It's hard to know for certain.”

“Then we just have to stall.” I pushed back his curls and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “You've never given in before and you're not gonna start now.” Tom’s arms wrapped around my waist and squeezed. He sighed as he sat me in his lap and held me close.

We planned our escape together quietly. I would try to stall Will’s offer until Ben arrived. Tom would pretend to accept his death by acting the part of a martyr. He told me to do whatever it took to convince Will that he had broken me. If I resorted to shooting him, he told me to aim for his shoulder. We had to commit for this to work—it had to look real.

Tom’s chuckle pulled me from my thoughts.

“Hm?” I hummed in question.

“I’m just thinking about our first date.”

“The gala?”

“No, the cafe. Our first real date.”

“What about it?”

“Just how nervous I was.”

I looked up at him incredulously. “ _You_ were nervous?”

“Of course I was. You were so beautiful and sure of yourself. Your confidence was a little intimidating.”

“You made me blush more in two hours than I'd ever blushed in my life. Not to mention how hard I was trying to keep my real identity from you the whole time.”

He shook his head with a smile. “Do you remember the first thing you said to me that day? You were the most captivating woman there.”

 

 _Our third meeting happened to be our first date. After we had run into each other at the cocktail party, we knew it was meant to be—or at least,_ Tom _knew it was. He’d asked me out to a secluded part of the city that happened to be home to his favorite cafe._

_As I entered the little river-side coffee shop late that afternoon, I glanced around for his beautiful head of golden curls. He was sitting in an arm chair near the window, and he didn't notice me come in as he typed something up on his laptop._

_The sun beams coming through the glass illuminated his face exquisitely. He looked absolutely regal sitting in—what I assumed to be—his little corner as if he were a king._

_I strode over and sat down in the chair across from him._

_“Come here often?” I greeted._

_His lips twitched into a smile. “I didn't even notice you come in. As a matter of fact, I—” He cast his gaze up at me. "—do." He was visibly taken aback, probably because I looked so different from our more formal meetings. “You look beautiful.”_

_“Oh, stop.”_

_“No, I mean it. You look lovely. Not that you don’t look lovely when you’re all dolled up. This is just a nice change.”_

_I blushed and looked away. He never failed to complement me and it always made my skin tingle._

_He drew my attention back to him as he stood to his full height in front of me. He offered his hand, and I took it, standing as well. His soft lips pressed a sweet kiss to my knuckles in greeting. This man was truly a prince reincarnated._

_“So, what's good here?”_

_Tom inhaled contentedly. “What are you in the mood for? I normally get coffee and a muffin.”_

_“I’ll just have to decide at the counter.”_

_He led me to the barista and ordered his usual. I took a minute, but finally decided on a caramel iced coffee with a slice of salted caramel cheesecake. Tom graciously paid for me, even after I insisted I could pay my own way._

_“It's our first date, of course I'm going to pay for you. What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn't?”_

_“Maybe a modern one?” I laughed. “And you don't think the gala was our first date?”_

_“I don't see how it could be—I didn't get to ask you out.”_

_“Oh, so that's what constitutes as a date for you?” I asked with a bemused smirk. “You have to ask me out.”_

_“Well, I wouldn't object to_ you _asking_ me _out,” he joked back. “So, what have you been up to on this lovely Saturday?”_

Research, _I thought. Even though my stomach was filled with butterflies, I couldn't forget why I was on this date—my employer wanted me to reel Tom in so we could take him down. But I couldn't help but wonder why. I'd never been told anything specific about why she wanted him taken out. And in all honesty, he didn't really seem like a terrible man. He was so sweet and gentlemanly—and it was hard to know if he was faking it—but I had good reason to believe that he was just like this._

 _“This morning I woke up to my neighbor blasting some music—I'm pretty sure he woke the whole building.” The barista set our drinks and pastries on the counter, and we took them back to our chairs. “Then I did some laundry. Read the news. Watched_ 13 Going On 30 _. Usual single girl stuff.” I sipped my drink and was pleasantly surprised at how good it was._

_“That sounds like a nice morning.” Tom mused as he dropped a sugar cube into his mug and stirred it, along with cream from the tiny carafe that came with his coffee._

_“What about you?” I asked._

_“I woke up early and went for a run—”_

_“On a Saturday? Ugh, that's too much.”_

_Tom laughed at my distaste. “Well darling, I quite enjoy waking up to run. I'm assuming you don't?”_

_“No thank you. I'll run when I'm good and ready after noon.” We smiled at each other._

_“Now, where was I before you so_ rudely _interrupted,” he joked. “Ah, yes. After my run, I showered, made a full English breakfast, and also read the news. Then I got ready for a coffee date with a beautiful girl.”_

_I blushed. “Stop; you're too kind.”_

_We sat in the cafe for two hours, just talking and enjoying the other’s company. At one point, I fed Tom a bite of my cheesecake, and he moaned deliciously, which sent a jolt of electricity to my core._

_I didn't know it at the time, but I had fallen hard for him, and it would be the best thing that ever happened to me._

 

“I would give my arm for some of that cheesecake right now,” he laughed sadly.

“Me too.”

Shortly after our episode of reminiscing, the keypad beeped and then buzzed as the heavy metal door creaked open. Will entered to find Tom and I huddled close, my head buried in his shoulder. Tom pulled me visibly closer as the six men surrounded us again.

“Well. Have you had time to say your goodbyes? Or will I have to hire a new hitwoman?”

I lifted my head to look at him. Tears ran down my cheeks—they were _mostly_ fake.

“Would you answer some questions first?” I asked slowly. Will sighed with annoyance.

“I suppose. Though, I don't have all day.”

I wiped my nose with the collar of my shirt as I climbed to my feet. “Why did you kill that woman at the charity event? She was innocent. There’s no way that helped your image.”

Will shrugged. “The person who fired thought it was you. But she was never meant to die. The marksman was just a terrible shot. Happy to say he’s gone now.”

“So that's why I was only shot in the leg.”

“Of course. I couldn't have you dead. What use would you be in leading me to your Prince Charming if you were dead?”

“Why did you need me to lead you to him? You knew where he was. Talia said you worked for him for years.”

“Needed to find his weakness, which just so happened to be you, pretty girl.” My lips twitched into a grimace at the pet name.

“And why can't you just hire the both of us?” I motioned to Tom. “Why can't he just dismantle his company and work for you? He doesn't have to die.” I sniffled.

“I want to see if you can be trusted to take my orders again.”

“By killing him?”

Tom interrupted, “Just do it.” I gazed into his sad eyes. “I told you I'm not worth it.”

“Like I said,” Will began. “I need him out of the way so you don't let your emotions get the best of you anymore.”

There was a long silence before I spoke again.

“If I do it… if I…,” I looked back to Tom for support before turning away in disgust, “kill him… how can I be sure that you'll keep up your end?”

“Have I ever wronged you before?” Will stepped forward and pulled a pistol out of his jacket. “I gave you everything you ever asked for. I am a man of my word.”

I stood for what felt like an eternity thinking of what else to do as the gun weighed down my hand. The clock was running out. I had to do something, but not something to get us killed.

“I have a condition.”

Will sighed, knowing that this wouldn't be straightforward. “Let's hear it.”

I turned toward the five henchmen. They all watched me with sick grins on their faces.

“I get to kill him, too,” I said, pointing my gun at the ringleader. Their faces fell instantly.

“Why?” Will asked, genuinely curious. I met his gaze.

“He groped me. He demeaned me. I won't work for you if you have disgusting men like him here.” I swallowed hard. “If I have to give up the one man who loves me unconditionally… I want this one gone, too.”

Will shrugged. “Fine. They're all expendable.”

His cronies erupted in protest, clearly afraid for their lives. I struggled to fight back a smirk. They all argued at Will, trying to rationalize why he’d let me do such a thing, and their chatter was getting more panicked with every moment. Tom looked at me with admiration.

“ENOUGH!” he shouted. Everyone jumped at the astounding volume of his voice. Will turned to me. “You kill him first.” He pointed to Tom. I opened my mouth to object but he stopped me. “You gave me your condition. I accepted. Now you’ll do what I tell you.” I swallowed and faced Tom once again. Panic raced through me. There would be no stalling after Will realized I hadn’t killed him. My palms sweated and the pistol slipped in my hands, but I cocked the hammer and raised it toward him, tears filling my eyes once again. He looked so hurt.

“I love you,” I told him with a cracking voice.

“I know.”

I tried to think something through, but there was nothing else I could do—no way I could make this go on longer. Ben hadn’t come. This was the end of our plan.

A tear ran down my cheek as I aimed and pulled the trigger. My eyes had squeezed shut involuntarily as I fired, so when I didn’t hear any of Tom’s cries, my blood ran cold at the thought of him being dead at my feet. My eyes snapped open to find him staring at me in shock, but unharmed.

“I… _what?_ ” I stared down at the gun in my hands before I turned to the man from the business meeting and shot at him too. Nothing happened. There were no bullets. “ _What?_ ”

“To be honest, I didn’t think you’d actually do it.” Will crossed the room and cupped my cheeks in his hands. “It was just a test, pretty girl,” he explained. _A… test?!_ Rage burned in my stomach as I ripped myself away from him.

“What the _hell_?! You _SICK_ son of a _BITCH_!” I clocked him with the pistol.

He stretched out his jaw and reached up to rub it as if I had only hit him with a pillow. “I’ll admit; I deserved that.” I hit him again, this time in the temple.

“You better fucking believe you do! You fucking _cunt_!” I screamed as tears of anger and relief blurred my vision. I moved to swing at him again, but he blocked me, and one of the five men pulled me back. I thrashed to get away, but to no avail. “You put me through all this _bullshit_ —all of this fucking manipulation—my whole god damned career with you!” I elbowed my captor in the eye to make him release me. “You told me he’d never love me! That he was just _using me_ to get to you. But _you've_ been using me this whole fucking time!” I kicked him in the shin as hard as I could. He fell before me, and another one of his henchmen pulled me back, but I swung my leg out to kick Will in the mouth, too. “I worked _so hard_ to undo all the fucking psychological damage you put me through and you just go and fucking uproot it in some crazy fucking scheme to make me kill him, and you gave me _blanks_ instead?!”

He glanced up at me, spitting blood. “You should be grateful. Could've been real bullets. After all, that was the point all along—for you to kill him. I saved his life from _you._ ”

That was _it._ My eyes burned as I released an animalistic roar from deep within me. I squirmed to free myself until two of the others grabbed my legs.

“I was never a threat to him! You just didn't see that, you _thick_ idiot! I fell in love with him the minute I saw him in that gala. I was never going to kill him! _Never_! Not now, not when we met! And now you want to tell me to be grateful that you didn't let me?! You didn't save him from shit!”

I didn't notice that Tom had risen and pulled me from their hold. He turned me to face his chest and wrapped his protective arms around me as I sobbed in absolute exhaustion.

“What the _fuck_ is your game here?!” Tom yelled.

“You were never going to die, Hiddleston. I just needed to make her your weakness so I could use your business expertise.”

“ _Fuck_ my ‘business expertise.’ She didn’t need to be traumatized like this. You already did a number on her before I met her. She didn't deserve to be used like this then, and she sure as hell doesn’t deserve to be used like this now after all the progress she’s made. By _you_ especially.”

Another thing I hadn’t noticed during my rage was Talia standing in the doorway with her gun aimed at Will. She slipped in undetected as the six others were focused on Tom and I, which gave her enough leeway to get around to us.

“What are you doing here?” Will asked, genuinely surprised.

“My job.” She backed them up toward the wall. Why none of them had guns, I had no clue. But she officially outnumbered them all by herself. “Ben, you can come in.”

I turned in Tom’s arms to see Ben saunter in as if there was no actual threat. He joined Tom and I behind Talia.

"Ah, yes. The slimy little bastard from New York. I knew your files were fake." Ben greeted snidely. "This probably isn't the moment for _I-Told-You-Sos_ , but Thomas..."

Tom tensed and flashed him a terrifying, murderous glare.

“I always knew something was up with you, jackass,” Talia spat, still aiming her gun. “You never stayed after to cuddle.”

Will laughed, almost in disbelief. Tom passed me off to Ben so I wouldn't collapse and then moved to stand next to her. The older man slowly guided the pistol from my white-knuckled hand and rubbed soothing circles on my back.

“We could give it one more go if you're that fussed about it,” Will teased.

“Piss off,” Tom snarled and grabbed Talia’s gun. He fired five shots in succession—the henchmen crumbled to the ground. Will’s eyes went wide when he realized what had happened. “Burn in hell, mate.” A final gunshot and thud.

My ears rang as I trembled in Ben’s embrace with a mix of adrenaline and terror running through me. A familiar metallic stench filled the room as the six men bled out on the floor.

“Come on. Come on,” Ben soothed, leading me out of the cell.

After I made it into the hall, I immediately collapsed to my knees and vomited. All the shock finally caught up with me. Being manipulated into thinking I had to shoot Tom and finding out it was all some sort of joke—not to mention all the buildup from years of Will’s other emotional abuse—was draining.

“Oh, baby girl,” Talia tutted and rushed to me to pull my hair back. “You gotta stop doing this when I’m around.”

The speed at which my companions could change their tones was astounding. Not 30 seconds ago, Talia was spitting venom at a lunatic. Now she was taking care of me like a sister.

“My legs feel like jelly," I grumbled.

“I gotcha, (y/n).” She propped me up with an arm around my shoulders. “You did great in there,” she praised reassuringly.

The four of us hobbled out of the underground complex to where a helicopter sat on the lawn. Ben and Talia helped me and Tom inside before joining us and shutting the door. I felt myself fading fast. There was no way I'd be able to stay awake for the whole journey. But it was okay; I finally felt safe enough to sleep. And thankfully—for once—it was dreamless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First; I just want to quickly apologize for replying to all your comments MONTHS later. I'm so bad with seeing comments in my inbox and then never replying. I promise I read them! 
> 
> Second; thank you all for your kind words (they make me smile and keep me writing)! I hope you're still enjoying my story. I'm sad to say we're nearing the end, but I have a surprise coming soon! :)


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... this is it!

“Ben, she’s waking up.”

I groaned and shifted slightly. I barely processed where I was, but then I started feeling my surroundings, and it became clearer; the firm mattress beneath me; the fluffy, down blankets wrapped around me; the warm body curled up next to me— _Tom_.

I had no idea what happened after I got in the helicopter. I knew I passed out when we left the ground, but after that, there was nothing; I didn't want to deal with the aftermath. All I wanted was to cuddle up to my boyfriend and sleep forever.

My eyes fluttered open, and I was met with a crooked view of Tom’s chest. He was sound asleep with his arm around me, and I had been pressed up to his side, using him as a pillow.

I tried to swallow the lump in my throat, but it was so sore that it felt like I was trying to swallow a rock. _Probably from crying and screaming and puking_ , I thought as groggy memories started filtering back.

There was some shuffling across the room, and I craned my neck toward it. The sunlight shining through French doors blinded me momentarily before Talia and Ben came into focus. She was sitting on a chair by the bedroom door, and he was next to her with a huge smile on his face and a food-filled tray in his hands.

“Good morning,” he greeted.

I pulled myself into a sitting position. When I tried talking, nothing came out except a slight scratching sound. Talia pointed to a glass of water on the side table. I took small sips gratefully.

“I'm surprised our Thomas is still asleep,” Ben mused, setting the tray down at the foot of the bed. “He’s usually up first thing.”

“They've had a rough couple of months.”

“Where are we?” I interrupted. We couldn't be in a safe house; one was smashed to bits from the invasion, and the other was on the radar of everyone Will had been in contact with. Besides, neither of them had French doors, so that gave it away.

“My vacation home,” Ben answered. I nodded in understanding. This was _his_ safe house.

I turned to face Tom's peaceful form. His long eyelashes rested on his cheeks, and his chest rose and fell under the blanket. I reached for him and pushed back his mussed curls. His eye was deeply bruised from yesterday. I tenderly smoothed my fingers over the warm purple and red skin. He flinched, and I pulled back as if I had been burned.

“Maybe keep yourself from touching him where he’s hurt?” Talia joked. I frowned, wishing I could just heal him in an instant. No matter how hard he tried to seem tough for me, I knew he was still delicate, and it killed me to see him harmed for my sake.

I felt the mattress twitch as he stretched out his long legs. He inhaled deeply before his eyes opened slowly.

“Tommy.” He turned to look at me, and a sweet, sleepy smile crept across his lips. He didn't say anything—just watched me as I played with his hair.

Talia and Ben decided to give us a few minutes alone while we ate the breakfast they prepared. I reached forward for the tray while Tom sat up against the headboard. He let out a strangled groan and re-positioned himself to take the pressure off his ribs. I turned back to him with orange juice and some toast.

“How are you this beautiful first thing in the morning?” he purred. His voice was as soft as velvet. “Witchcraft,” he added, as he took the plate and glass.

“How is your voice this gravelly and sexy first thing in the morning?”

His deep chuckle was music to my ears. I scooted back and sat with him as we munched on our food. Tom raised a fresh cube of honeydew to my lips. The cool, juicy fruit soothed my throat perfectly.

He reached his foot out to tangle our legs together, and I felt him stick his toes in between my anklet and my skin.

“So, you put a chip in there, huh?” I grinned, nibbling on a plump strawberry.

“With everything going on, I had to. It was just an extra precaution.” He took the rest of the berry from me and finished it.

“I'm glad you did.” I blushed.

“Me too.” He pressed a quick kiss to my temple.

We sat there quietly for a while, which ended up with me overthinking. I wondered what our life would be like now that there were no real threats. What would we do? Tom still had his company, so maybe we would both work there... But after what happened with Will, I don't know if I would feel safe anymore—especially around all those men. I didn't know any of them. They could all be working against him.

And it was hard to say it, but now I even doubted Talia…

I immediately remembered how adamantly Tom had asked me to trust him all those months ago. He never hurt me, never lied to me, and all he wanted was the best for me. Talia was his right hand woman. And, yeah, Will had been his right hand man, but the two were both so different. They _worked_ so different. Will had barely been in the office. There was so much room for exploitation. Talia, however, came to Tom to design his houses, and then he offered her a job after he saw her work. She was always loyal. There was no reason for her to undermine him.

He trusted Talia with me, and she took care of me like a sister. Ben seemed to get along with her just fine, too—meanwhile, he knew something was up with Will from the start. She was always there when Tom needed her to be. She risked her life to save us. She was a friend. Deep down, I knew I was being irrational.

My mind drifted back to her sneaking into our cell and rescuing us. It all seemed so surreal—like it was a dream. Of course, it wasn't. That abduction had very much occurred. But I still reeled over how we got here. I wasn't sure how I felt about being in an unknown place while we were so vulnerable.

“What happened after I passed out?” I asked Tom.

“Darling, I haven't the slightest idea. I fell asleep right after you did.”

“Huh. Okay.” I shrugged, grabbing another piece of fruit from the tray.

Who was I kidding? This was perfect. There was no imminent danger. It felt so _right_ to be next to Tom like this. He was warm and sturdy—although a little roughed up—and I never wanted anything else. Just to spend the rest of my life in this intimate moment.

“Little dove?”

“Hm?”

“Would you mind opening the doors? It's getting stuffy in here.”

I nodded and climbed out of the bed. Before I even opened them, I could see the blue expanse of water through the sheer, white curtains. Where were we really? Obviously Ben hadn't lied, but he hadn't told me where in the _world_ we were.

Stepping out onto the balcony, I took the whole landscape in as the sun warmed my face. It was beautiful. The house was on top of a hill, and below were little shops and restaurants along cobblestone streets. Further in front of me, there were tiny people walking around and playing on the sand of the beach. Water surrounded what I could see of the shoreline. Were we on an island?

“Isn't it magnificent?" I felt Tom’s strong arms snake around me. "Mallorca," he breathed into my ear. _Mallorca. Spain._ Before I could ask why he’d gotten out of bed, he tilted my jaw toward him and leaned forward to kiss me again. “I could stay here forever.”

“I thought you were more of a woodsman.”

“It would seem that way. But I love a good beach.”

We stood there for what felt like hours, just watching everyone live their peaceful lives below. It made me wonder if ours would ever be so simple.

“I'm selling the company.”

I whipped around. “ _What_ _?_ Tom—” he pressed a finger to my lips.

“I'm selling it. I’m done with all of this nonsense.”

“But what about everything you've built? You love it! I can't just let you give it away.”

“I love _you_. I don't care about anything else. It's caused us too much trouble.” He reached down and ghosted his fingers over the old scar on my thigh from his bullet. I swallowed hard.

“We wouldn't have met without it.”

“Unfortunately,” he laughed. “But that's in the past. It won't change if I get rid of it now. I'll still have you.”

“You have to be sure.”

“I am.” My heart skipped a beat. “Besides, I have plans for us.”

“Oh?”

“I can't tell you what they are yet… but I promise they're good.”

I grinned, thinking back to that early winter morning when we watched the sunrise together. “You _are_ always great with surprises.”

“Mm,” he hummed in agreement.

I thought about everything we’d been through as we stood there in peace. True, the way we’d met was unconventional, and there were some uncomfortable things I would never be able to forget—with some good times sprinkled in between. But in the present, things seemed to be looking up for us. I finally felt safe… a safety that came without needing protection to feel it. It was like some kind of invincibility. Tom and I could just _live_ now.

He slid a hand under mine and intertwined our fingers, casually drumming and stroking his thumb on my skin.

“I’m getting antsy. Shall we go out and start the beginning of the rest of our lives?”

I smiled. “What did you have in mind, sweetheart?” I gazed up into his sweet, baby-blue eyes.

“Well… we could go have lunch in a little cafe by the beach.” He pulled me closer. “Or take a walk along the shoreline.” His nose nuzzled my cheek. “Or we could go shopping; I do love buying you things.”

I giggled at that and pecked his lips. “You spoil me, Tom. You’re all I need.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. I really never saw this day coming. It's always so hard for me to finish multi-chapter fics because I lose my spark for them well in the middle... But I'm so proud of this one. I've really enjoyed writing it.
> 
> I guess it's time to reveal the surprise that I mentioned before: I'm writing a sequel! Well... It's sort of a prequel (it starts before this one, but will catch up to where this one ends). This time it's going to be from Tom's perspective. I feel like I've left a lot of room for character development (*cough* Talia and Will), so I think this is the best way for me to explore them as secondary characters.
> 
> I'm also going to make this fic into a series. I've really enjoyed trying to world-build, and I love this little AU. I hope you've all enjoyed reading this as much as I've loved writing it.
> 
> As a personal rule, I don't usually ask for this (because I believe it's up to all of you to choose who to follow without influence from the author), but if you'd like to read the next part of this story (and subsequent oneshots), please subscribe to me and the series All I Want/All I Need! I'm not sure when I'll have the prequel up, so this is the best way for you to be notified when it's posted.
> 
> Again, thank you for staying with me on this journey (and for all the kudos and comments). I really appreciate you.


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